A Wizard Shall Fall: The Orbs of Fae
by BJL13
Summary: When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements referenced to Inheritance Cycle. Rated M for later themes. AU:POA
1. Fall into Darkness

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plot line and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

* * *

 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

* * *

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone

* * *

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him in [almost] every chapter!

* * *

Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 1: Fall into Darkness

 _When Wynter's Wizard fades from Litha's blessed light,  
And the darkness from beyond consumes him with fright,  
Then shall fall the Wizard in the hands of Queens  
_ _And end the Table's fight with his Hallowed mien_

"Expecto patronum," Harry cast, causing a faint white wisp to come from his wand. The dementors were unimpressed, pushing closer and closer. Harry heard godfather falter and fall next to him, collapsing on the ground.

"Not again!" Sirius cried. "I did it! I did it!" as Sirius became overwhelmed by the force of the dementors, Harry noticed his godfather's eyes glazing over as he re-lived the worst day of his life. "Haha, can you believe it Amy? Ha ha ha it's all my fault." By this point, Sirius was talking to the air, struggling to breath for all his insane laughter

"Hang in there, Sirius. We'll get out of this" Harry told his incapacitated godfather, hoping with all of his 13-year old heart that it was true. Unfortunately for Harry, as he was trying to make sense of Sirius' ramblings, the dementors had edged ever forward, not paying any heed to the now-snorting man on the ground. Their focus had all shifted for the one soul still struggling to stand, putting up a fight against becoming their midsummer snack.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry shouted, trying to think of any positive emotion amidst the wave of misery emanating off of the dementor horde. Thinking of Ron, of Hermione, of Neville and, for some reason, that one weird Ravenclaw he noticed this year, he tried again. "Expecto PATRONUM!" A shield came forth, not a corporeal patronus, but a shield nonetheless, a perfectly round bubble of sanctuary surrounding him and Sirius. The dementors screeched, not expecting any more resistance from the frankly feeble snack in front of them.

Harry knew he could not keep the shield up forever; he could feel his strength fleeing out his wand as he struggled to maintain the barrier. "Please," Harry thought, "there has to be someway to survive." Cursing to himself, and not realizing he was speaking aloud, Harry planted his feet in the center of his patronus bubble, begging for help. "Anyone, anything, please help! I'd do anything, just help us! Please, save us." As Harry let out his third and final plea, the last of his strength failed him, and he fell to the ground on top of Sirius, bone-weary and defeated. The dementors surged forward, their incessant screeching seemingly magnified the closer they came to the panting teen and his raving godfather.

The dementors grew closer yet, and Harry mustered one final push. Not thinking of any one person, or place, Harry remembered back to his very first year at Hogwarts, during the Yule holiday. He remembered seeing his family surrounding him, and the sense of peace and love he felt. Mustering his strength one last time, Harry failed to noticed that he had fallen in the exact middle of his extinguished shield bubble… the bubble that had curiously still left a ring, a perfect glowing circle, in the sandy shore of the Black Lake. Remembering his first feelings of home, of love, Harry drew on every last reserve he had, and cried out, "EXPECTO PATRONUM BRUMA!" Not knowing why he added that last word, or even what it truly meant, Harry gave his all to the spell, pushing every drop of magic he had left through his wand. A spectral light shone over Harry, so bright as to bathe the clearing in noon-day light, yet so cold that even the dementors thought they would freeze. As the light grew and took shape into a mighty bird, Harry had just enough energy left to notice that the dementors' screeches had changed, and sounded pained instead of hungry. Harry could not ponder on that, though, as he looked up and was shocked to the massive summoned cardinal that seemed to fill the clearing, the bird's chest on fire, wreathed in golden flames, while the wings were pure white and crystalline, reminiscent of arctic ice and giving off a harsh, blueish-white glow.

As Harry looked at his magnificent patronus, for he finally realized that is what the bird was, he wondered why his hand felt numb, and saw his right hand covered in splinters, holding on to a mere fiery red feather. His wand, his trusted 11-inch rod of supple holly, was no more. Slowly but surely, Harry began to notice something else, too. His head. His head was aching, burning, feeling like all the dementor screeches were simultaneously coming from within and without. Harry, bereft of any and all energy with this new pain, felt himself slipping and falling, slowly losing consciousness as his body and magic gave out until all he knew was blackness, then nothing more.

Harry came to suddenly, finding himself in a world of pitch darkness. He could see neither ground nor walls, no floor or ceiling in sight. In fact, Harry had no way to tell that he was actually awake, other than the barest sensation of not being unconscious.

Caught in this liminal state, still unable to muster energy to get up, Harry did all he could and asked, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Of course," came the reply, a sickly-sweet answer that drifted to Harry from no particular direction. "I am here for you, child mine".

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, suddenly upset that anyone would try to call him their child when his parents were well and truly dead.

"Oh, I'm hurt" came the reply, as cloying sweet and sarcastically fake as the first response. "How could you not know me? After all, you summoned me to your aid, did you not?"

* * *

Who is the man behind the curtain (or the darkness, as the case may be)? Who could thrive in the hidden shadows, playing mind games with our poor hero?

Stay tuned, the next chapter should be out soon, and be considerably longer!

Leave comments/questions/concerns/reviews below… Ta-ta~!

-BJL13


	2. Finding the First Firsts

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

* * *

 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

* * *

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone

* * *

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him in [almost] every chapter!

Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 2: Finding the First Firsts

 _Previously: "Who are you?" Harry demanded, suddenly upset that anyone would try to call him their child when his parents were well and truly dead._

" _Oh, I'm hurt" came the reply, as cloying sweet and sarcastically fake as the first response. "How could you not know me? After all, you summoned me to your aid, did you not?"_

"Who are you? I can't see you!" Harry cried out, quickly losing his patience with the mysterious and taunting voice.

"A pity, then, that you called to me. SILENCE child!" The voice cried, as Harry tried to interrupt. The voice was suddenly everywhere at once, an overwhelming presence that Harry could not so much as _hear_ but rather _feel_.

"I cannot name myself to you, my summoner." "But I didn't-" Harry began to protest, only to get cut off, again. "ENOUGH with this insolence, foolish boy. You obviously have no idea with whom you speak. Seek now, in this world in between, the firsts. They shall guide you, as they are bound to do by their own working."

"But I don't understand," Harry protested. "Who are you? Who are the firsts? Why can't I move? Where am I? What happened? Where's Sirius?" The questions came pouring out of Harry as he was struck with the reality of the situation. If he would have thought about it, he would have felt a peculiar kinship with a certain bushy-haired friend of his.

"You are where you are. You can no more see in my presence than address me in my court. I leave thee now, fated child, and restore unto you your lost senses. Go now, and find truth". The voice spoke softly this time, leaving a faint echo behind it, and Harry had a fleeting impression of the last drifts of snow fluttering to the ground after a blizzard.

Suddenly, much to Harry's surprise, the darkness cleared to reveal a cloudless twilight and his strength returned at once. He found himself alone, in a perfectly round wooded glade. Behind him, Harry saw only a circle of yew trees, with boulders interspersed betwixt them. The only way forward was a paved path, directly to what Harry assumed was the North, judging by the near-perfect alignment of moss on every tree. The path, perfectly smooth and made of a single sheet of polished granite, ended at the base of the northernmost tree, almost as if it continued beyond. The tree stood in the middle of the path, as if it was a sentinel, silent and sure, standing watch in the mysterious twilight over the glade.

 _Come to think of it_ , Harry noticed, _every tree looks the exact same. Every. Single. One._ Curious, Harry approached the tree on the path. As he put his hand to the lower branches, he thought that he could feel an energy of sort coming from the bark. It reminded him of a time his cousin Dudley had pushed him towards a transformer when they were younger, in one of their 'Harry Hunting' games. _That's strange,_ Harry thought. _Trees shouldn't be electrified, and yet…_ Gathering his courage, which had been bolstered by the sheer incredibility of his situation, Harry pushed on the branch, reaching out to the energy and feeling the power thrum beneath his fingers.

"WHO ARE YOU?" cried a voice in his head. _Oh great,_ Harry thought, _more bloody voices in my bloody head_. "I BLEED NOT." _Note to self_ , _psychic_ _trees don't have a sense of sarcasm_.

"WHO ARE YOU?" the voice in the tree repeated.

"H-h-harry" said the boy wizard, his voice faltering as he tried to rationalize that he was, in face, talking to a sentient tree in the middle of an unknown land.

"WHEREFORE GO THOU IN THESE SACRED HALLS?"  
"Ach!" cried Harry, startled by the volume of the voice. "Tone it down a bit, eh? I can hear my mind just bloody fine."

"I SPEAK AS I AM"

"Fine, if you want me deaf by the end of this, so be it" replied Harry, quickly getting frustrated at his newly-found headache. Drawing himself to full height, all five feet, two inches of it, Harry decided that the quickest way to deal with the tree was to respond in kind, echoing the mysterious voice from before. "I seek answers from the firsts."

The tree began to reply as soon as Harry had finished the last sound of "firsts". "H-A-A-ARRY, SEEKER OF THE ANCIENTS. PASS THROUGH THESE SACRED HALLS",

"It's Harry, just Harry!" Harry insisted, determined that he wouldn't stutter again.

"SO BE IT" said the tree, with a note of finality that sent shivers running down Harry's spine. As the tree finished talking, it shimmered and shook, causing Harry to take a quick step back. The tree seemed to turn in on itself, rotating both halves inward until it formed an arch, revealing the way beyond. Sure enough, as Harry had suspected, the path continued behind the old tree. Surrounding the path on both sides was an arch of yew, the ancient branches of thousands upon thousands of identical trees forming an almost-solid archway around him.

Harry turned around one last time, and seeing that there was only one way forward, began to stride forward, down the path. As he crossed the barrier where the sentient tree stood, Harry idly picked at the splinters of his old want still in his hand. Picking at the splinters for something to do, rather than a conscious act, Harry did not notice that he had pulled a splinter deep enough to draw blood. As he crossed the boundary where the tree once stood, a drop of crimson blood fell to the smooth stone pavement, hitting the ground and letting out an almighty _hiss_.

Startled, Harry spun around as he sucked on the wound, trying to prevent more blood from falling. Seeing nothing like the snake he imagined he would find, Harry began to turn back around when he noticed, shining on the path where his blood had fallen, was a perfectly round sphere of yew. Squatting, Harry reached out to the sphere, feeling the same energy from it as he did from the trees around him. _Is it worth it?_ He wondered, briefly considering leaving the orb there. _Eh, sod the consequences. If nothing else, at least I'll have something to throw if I need it_. With that, Harry grabbed onto the orb. As soon as his fingers touched the smooth surface, he felt his headache, which had been growing consistently worse, suddenly abate.

Feeling much better, having finally found something on this thrice-damned night that helped him (or at least, wasn't obviously trying to hurt him, suck out his soul, confuse him, deafen him, or otherwise mess with his psyche), Harry continued northward on the path. Eventually, having no idea for how long he continued to walk, Harry saw a sign that he was actually moving somewhere. Up ahead was another glade, surrounded by yew, with a single, massive pine tree in the middle. The pine was shrouded in a pale moonlight, a beam of iridescence that descended from an unseen moon through a singular, round gap in the canopy above. At the end of the shaft of light, Harry saw a single pine cone, closed and alone, hanging on the end of a branch just out of reach.

As he approached, Harry felt the yew sphere grow cold in his pocket. Taking it out, mostly to avoid uncomfortable shrinkage from the cold, Harry felt the ball of wood start to shake and jolt towards the pine cone. As the the two came near each other, both began to glow an eerie blue, reminding Harry of the sky after a lightning strike. Instinctively, he reached up to brush the hair off of his similar scar. As soon as his fingers brushed over the always-tender skin that served as a reminder of that fateful night, the two glowing objects flew towards each other, meeting with a flash of light and a bang so tremendous it threw Harry across the courtyard, back onto the granite path.

 _Bloody hell_ , thought Harry as he borrowed his best friend's tagline. _What in Merlin's seven wonders was that?_ Shaking himself off, and reassuring himself that he wasn't banged up any more than after a Quidditch match ( _like that's any comfort_ , Harry reminisced, remembering Flophart the year before), Harry looked towards where the pine tree had stood. Where there was once a towering tree now rested a small wooden pyramid, no larger than Harry's malnourished-ly small hands. The pattern in the wood grain was like nothing Harry had seen before, almost... _almost as if the pine cone was made of wood now_ , Harry mused. _But that's impossible. Two separate things can't transform themselves, especially without a wand...right?_ Harry had a creeping feeling that he was soon to find out what was going on, one way or another.

Continuing onward, as the small blast of automatic transformation had cleared an opening to another section of the preternaturally-smooth granite path, Harry soon came to what he [correctly] assumed was the end of the path. In the middle of the path was an island - an honest-to-goodness, surrounded-by-water, island. The granite surface extended as far as Harry could see, but it all surrounded a veritable lake. In the middle of a lake, sat this island. As he took in the sudden magnificence of the sight, Harry thought that things were finally looking up for him. There was a lighthouse on the island, surrounded by willow trees on the water's edge, clearly visible in the middle of a grassy knoll in the middle of the land mass. _What would be even better_ , Harry thought, _is if I had a way to actually get there...maybe then I could actually get a good rest for a while_. No sooner had Harry thought of getting across than the pyramid, formerly in his pocket, began to hover in front of him, still glowing that eerie shade of blue. Having some idea of what would happen, having already experienced this glow first hand, Harry braced himself and touched his forehead, in the middle of his scar.

Nothing happened. Startled by the lack of reaction, Harry tried again, pressing hard enough to almost leave a bruise on his own skin. Stymied, Harry sat on the edge of the lake, letting his feet rest in the cool surf. Musing to himself, Harry again fidgeted with one of the few splinters of his former wand that was left in his hand. Slowly, Harry had the beginnings of an idea. _I wonder,_ Harry mused, _if the ball was blood, and the pinecone was my scar…_ Combining the two, Harry pulled the last remaining long splinter from the pad of his thumb, drawing a perfect crimson drop of blood. He held the pyramid, still slowly spinning, in his left hand and pressed his thumb onto his forehead. Rather than a flash transformation, the pyramid began to hover and spin faster and faster. With the pyramid turning so quickly he could not make sense of the motion anymore, Harry looked up towards the island, and gasped. All the willows around the edge of the island had raised out of land, their weeping limbs and crawling roots all intertwined. This ring of willow was beginning to circle counter-clockwise around the island; _widdershins_ , a small voice in his mind helpfully provided.

As the pyramid and the willow ring began to pick up speed, now both rotating in sync, a bridge rose up out of the water. Built of the same seamless granite that Harry had been walking on since he got to, well, wherever he was, Harry continued onward, the pyramid still floating about his left hand. As he crossed the bridge towards the willow ring, the pyramid seemed like it was singing, humming ever higher in pitch until Harry was almost touching the spinning ring of trees. As one, the ring flew upwards, to the height of the lighthouse, clearing a path for the young wizard. _Wait a minute,_ Harry started _, where'd the lighthouse go?_ As soon as he set foot on the island, the bridge behind him - and indeed, all the granite pathways, had vanished, leaving Harry alone and without a path behind him. The only remaining path was up a rickety set of built-in steps on the hillside, leading towards where the lighthouse once stood. Bracing himself for whatever was about to come, Harry strode onward, until he was at the top of the hill.

In a perfect circle, under the still-spinning circle of trees, limbs, and roots, was what Harry remembered to be called a fairy's circle - a perfect circle of pure white mushrooms, about 60 feet across. Cautiously stepping forward, Harry slowly walked towards the circles, the spinning pyramid still over his left hand. _What's going on?_ Harry wondered, curious as to where this stupidly brave attitude of his had came from. _Ah well. It's not as if I'm even still alive… am I?_ For the first time since entering this ethereal world, Harry began to think back to the dementors that had landed him here in the first place. _In for a knut, in for galleon_ , Harry thought, and crossed the ring of mushrooms to the center of the circle. As he stepped into the center, Harry, unsure of what was guiding him, sat cross-legged facing north, with the pyramid spinning above his lap. If he had looked around, he would have noticed that the ring of willows had stopped their gravity-defying spinning, and had touched down again, planting themselves just behind the fungal boundary of the fairy circle - in essence, sealing the circle within another circle, all encircled again by the island's boundaries.

Harry was, for better or for worse, too preoccupied to notice all of this. Under the same unknown influence that had sat him down, Harry placed his palms to the earth on either side of him, and began to chant:

 _Matronae Moirai_

 _Spinner, allotter, finisher_

 _Come forth, ye crones of olde_

 _Come forth_

 _Clotho - Lachesis - Atropos_

 _Come forth_

 _Your beholden beseeches you_

 _Come forth - Come forth - COME FORTH!_

At the end of the last syllable, spoken with as much reverence as Harry could muster, a cold wind began to blow, circling leftward around the island. As the winds began to blow, stronger and stronger, until they were howling through the reeds of the willows, smoke began to form, circling around Harry with the flow of the wind. The next Harry new, all was still, and where there was a storm of smoke and wind, now stood three women; one clad in white, one in grey, and one in black - each covered head-to-toe in robes of one pure color.

"Who...who are you?" stuttered Harry, mentally berating himself for stuttering...again.

"WE ARE THOSE YOU SEEK" said the women, all speaking as one. _Yeesh,_ thought Harry, _what is it with supernatural things trying to deafen me today?_

"We are the Moirai" explained the woman to Harry's right, wearing white a white cloth so pure it could have been made of clouds themselves. "We are the fates, the spinners of life. I am Clotho, who makes the thread."

"I am Atropos," continued the woman to Harry's left, dressed in a cloth so dark Harry thought he was speaking to a shadow. "I cut the thread at the end of all things".

"Wait!" interrupted Harry. "Does that mean you're death?"

"Be calm, child," the dark lady responded. "I am not my daughter; I seek not to end your life this night". _Well, that's a relief,_ Harry thought, pleased that someone had given him a straightforward answer for once.

"And I am Lachesis," said the woman in front of Harry, dressed in a robe that seemed to be perfectly halfway between the colors of her sisters. "I measure the thread, and take measure of a life. From the beginning to the end, I am there, stretching and pulling, prodding and weaving. I make the tapestry of life. I turn each thread into a cord, making it whole with those around it. I am balance. I am the life in darkness, and death in life. I am in all things. All things, except for you, Harry James Potter."

As the Fate in front of him said his name, for Harry finally realised who he had summoned while in the thrall of the strange power, Harry felt every part of his body scream out together, as if those four syllables together were the answer to every question in the universe.

"Yes," continued Lachesis, seeing Harry's visceral reaction to his Name being spoken, "we are in a place where names have power. And yours, young wizard, has more than most."

Feeling as if he had somehow insulted the deities around him, Harry scrambled to a low bow, prostrating himself in front of the Fates. "I beg pardon, your Fateships," Harry stumbled across his words, stringing together sounds almost faster than his brain could process them in an effort to appease the forces of the universe that he found himself caught between. "I mean no disrespect. Let me know how to return my thread and I will, Lady Lachesis. Let me return power. Justpleasedon'tkillme." Harry was speaking so fast by the end of his plea that the last begging request came out all as one word.

Lachesis, surprising Harry, did the one thing he did not expect to his request - she laughed. Pure and light, like the chorus of all the church bells of Rome singing together, the Allotter responded, "Have no fear of death, my dear youngling. It is not your fault that the natural order has been corrupted. Listen well child, and I shall tell you of your place in things.

Calmed by her reassurance that his essence wasn't about to be disintegrated across all known time and space, Harry did the only thing he could thing to - he sat, and listened. What he heard next, would change all of existence - he just didn't know it yet.

* * *

 **A/N3:** This chapter ran away from me really fast. The next chapter will be the Fates' explanation of what was actually going on, and it's where our story really begins. I should get it out in the next day or two, work permitting.

As always, please review, favorite, and follow! Shout-out to DarkMantis for being the first follower for this story!

Ta-ta ~BJL13


	3. Lachesis Speaks

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

* * *

 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

* * *

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

 **A/N3:** This is a long chapter and dialogue-heavy, but tells how the Dresden characters are mixed into the HP universe, as well as showing Harry's [first] major transformation.

* * *

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

* * *

Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 3: Lachesis Speaks

Previously _:_ _Lachesis, surprising Harry, did the one thing he did not expect to his request - she laughed. Pure and light, like the chorus of all the church bells of Rome singing together, the Allotter responded, "Have no fear of death, my dear youngling. It is not your fault that the natural order has been corrupted. Listen well child, and I shall tell you of your place in things._

 _Calmed by her reassurance that his essence wasn't about to be disintegrated across all known time and space, Harry did the only thing he could thing to - he sat, and listened. What he heard next, would change all of existence - he just didn't know it yet._

Lachesis began slowly, fidgeting with the golden thread in her hands (the Fates were, after all, still spinning, measuring, and cutting their threads).

"Understand, child mine, that the universe as you know it is not nearly as simple as you think." Harry, not thinking that the universe was a simple thing in the slightest, gave a start.

"Yes, yes dear, your mortal figure-seekers, the scientists, think they have it all figured out." Seeing Harry's incredulity, the Grey Fate continued, "they think the whole universe was wound as tight as a ball, and then everything came to being as one."

"You mean the Big Bang?" asked Harry, remembering back to his muggle primary school?

"Yes, yes, that dreadful thing" responded Lachesis. "What they don't understand, is that the ball of everything, as they call it, had to come from somewhere. Or, I suppose I should be more precise -" at this, her sister Clotho, who made the threads of life, snorted hard enough that she lost track of the burgeoning thread in her hand, making it swell and pop like an overblown balloon.

"Won't you skip to the good part?" Clotho asked, impatiently. "You just made me destroy another god."

"Wait, wait, wait," Harry said, quite concerned. " _Another_ god? Destroyed?"

"Well yes, dear, that's about what that thread would have been… a pity, too, because I had not yet filled that life with its power, either." Clotho responded nonchalantly as she tossed around a ball of what Harry assumed was the power of a god. "Oh well," she signed, "a shame no one can use it now."

"Hold thy tongue, sister-mine" groveled Atropos, speaking up for the first time since Lachesis' tale began. "It might have use here yet."

"AS I WAS SAYING," continued Lachesis, frustrated with her sisters talking over her, and obviously telling Harry not to interrupt again, "the universe, or rather, everything in it, did not come from nothing - it came from us.

"Twelve great cycles ago, when there was naught else, there was but one force, one thing, one existence that always was. You know that of which I speak, little wizard."

Hearing the emphasis the Fate put on the last word, Harry made a leap of logic, and guessed, "Magic?"

"Correct. Surprising what one can do when he's unburdened by disaster," Lachesis continued. "Out of this raw magic came the first bastions of sense: my sister white, Clotho, The Spinner, The Origin." As Lachesis described her sister fate, Harry could almost hear the capital letters of her many titles.

"Then Clotho, unable to balance creation with existence, begot my sister black, Atropos, The Finisher, The End. And so existence was, for time immemorial, everything that Clotho made Atropos unmade, returning order to its natural chaos as she returned creation to raw magic. Such was the way of things until my sisters grew tired of the endless cycle. For too long, there was balance without measure. And so they pooled their wisdom and power, and begot me. For I am the Allotter, the one who prevents The End of The Origin's many gifts until they have had a chance to experience existence. No longer would all that was extant be doomed to fade into magic at the whims of my dear sister. From our powers three, has come the rest of creation. All that is, all that has been, all that will be is ours - to Make, and to End." Here, Lachesis took an uneasy pause, and Harry gave a small smile in sympathy as he noticed the Fate become unsure of what she was about to say.

"For twelve great cycles, twelve universes, we continued this in harmony. From beginning through to a measured end, everything worked in harmony, our powers three balanced betwixt ourselves.

"Then came our current cycle, the thirteenth." As she said the number, all three fates let out a great shiver, putting Harry even more on edge. "As we ended the last cycle, cutting the final thread of all others' existences, and began the universe anew, Magic came together and pushed Herself - for her might, Magic is assuredly a Lady - gave her essence itself to dear Clotho's thread. This cycle is destined to be the cycle unending, the one thread that poor Atropos can never cut, for even her shears are bound by the will of Lady Magic." At this, the mentioned sister suddenly clacked her shears together, startling Harry who had been so entranced by the Grey Fate's story to pay attention to the other sisters.

"Instead of balancing creation with the end, as we had done before, we were forced to balance creation among four different entities. You have, no doubt heard of them?" At this, Harry blanched, having no idea of who Lachesis could be talking about.

"Oh, my poor summer child," Lachesis sighed, seeing Harry still had no idea what was going on. The other two fates simply laughed, chilling Harry to the core. "You have been blessed twice over by my wins, the Ladies Luck and Fortune. Their sister, Lady Destiny, has woven your thread into her magnificent tapestry." As realization began to dawn on Harry that he was, in fact, in much deeper trouble than he first thought, a tapestry appeared behind Lachesis, woven through the very middle, tying the whole work together, was a single, golden thread.

"Yes, dear one. Your thread shines with the light of Lady Magic herself." Unsure of how to process that thought, Harry looked up to Lachesis, sure that he had missed something.

"Ma'am, you said that there were four other entities. The Lady Twins and Lady Destiny count for three, right?"

"That would be my fault," Atropos grovelled from Harry's left, her voice sounding like stones grinding against each other. "Unable to cut the thread Lady Magic blessed, my power built upon itself until it grew too large for my power alone. Thus, I spawned the last entity, Lady Death. She is my tool in all things, the balance of my power unable to grow further in my body, as it were". Harry gulped, terrified of being directly addressed by the all-powerful entities around him.

"The seven of us, Fates, Luck, Fortune, Destiny, and Death," continued Lachesis as she ignored Harry's discomfort, "are the Balance of All. By our collective Might, we are the Firsts: the First Powers, the First Gods, the First Fae." If the gravity of the fate's voice did not give Harry any clues as to the serious nature of the deities' Might, the fact that the ground began to shake as soon as the Words of Power were spoken began to drop some earth-shattering hints.

"In our Might, we split the world. To light and dark, warmth and cold, Summer and Winter, we made our fae and their courts." Images began to fly around Harry. Some scenes looked almost as if from a fairy tale - a stone table surrounded by centaurs two old women knitting and cooking, young girls dressed in blue and green dresses, women in crowns of yellow and white, both stunningly beautiful yet terrifying at the same time. The last two images, however, were much easier for Harry to recognize - a blond first-year Ravenclaw ("Luna", a small voice whispered in Harry's mind), and to his shock, his most hated professor - Severus Snape, potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"You see sisters? I knew he would eventually understand it" Lachesis spoke to the other fates, watching Harry's face become pale as he saw the image of Snape.

"My dear wizard, you need not be alarmed by our eminence. Severus Tobias Snape has sworn himself to the Firsts, and his actions are by our grace."

"But he's death eater scum!" cried Harry, more unsure than ever about what was going on.

"And there lies the next part of our tale," Lachesis responded, somehow calming Harry from his panicked state. "What do you think of the man you call headmaster?"

"Dumbledore? He's an okay guy, I think." As he spoke, Harry saw disappointment flash across the faces of all three fates, and knew that something was wrong.

"OKAY?" cried Lachesis. "He left you to ROT at your awful family. He could have put you anywhere he wanted, yet he ignored his second-in-command warning him how awful they were. He is the head of the Wizengamot, he could have gotten your godfather a trial whenever he wanted, yet he remained silent!"

"Why? Why are you telling me this? Why does it matter? He's the only thing Voldemort feared, he has to be good!" Harry was understandably upset, and almost past the point of rational thought.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is a fraud boosted by a power set against Magic herself! He called to the power using our own wand after hearing the guiding prophesy of this universe and has twisted it to suit the needs of his ego - the only part of him of any considerable size." As she spoke of the headmaster, Lachesis became more and more irate, gathering a crimson aura around her that caused the air around her to shimmer from its heat.

"Yes ma'am" Harry responded, too terrified to say anything else.

"Very good" Lachesis growled at Harry, releasing a torrent of fire above her head that took the shape of a bird. Upon closer inspection, Harry realized that it was no mere bird; it was a flock of phoenixes, each one as crimson as her aura. _Is this where Fawkes came from?_ Harry wondered, thinking to the events of his second year.

"Indeed, your favorite flaming chicken is one of my pets," Lachesis said with a smile, obviously fond of the phoenix that saved Harry's life. "He has done most of my spying on your headmaster for the last fifty years. Tell me, child, do you know why Voldemort is so abominable to your land? Of course not, you're only a boy." Lachesis began another monologue as she detailed, quite vividly, what a horcrux was and how they were made.

"And you say I have one of these things, these horcruxes, in me? And Dumbledore knew the whole time?" Harry was getting so worked up that his magic began to manifest around him, an aura of the same eerie blue-white that had surrounded the objects leading him to the Fates.

"Indeed. Your headmaster is a vile, cruel man who sought to control everything he ever found." Lachesis replied, silently impressed at how strong the boy's magic was around him. "But unfortunately, his treatment of you is not the worst he has done."

"What could possibly be worse?" Harry wailed, becoming so upset that his magic started a small blizzard around him.

"Calm yourself, child!" After seeing Harry take a few deep breaths, and the blizzard calming itself to small flurries, Lachesis continued, "The vile man has consorted with forces beyond his control. Very early on, as he tried to find a way to defeat Grindelwald, Albus came into contact with my sisters and I through a powerful right. Full of hubris and desperation, Albus stole from us a mote of our power, binding us even further to this universe and disrupting the guiding hand of our mother, Lady Magic herself. He carries this power with him even now, tied to the wand he claims to have won from his former lover."

"Hold up, ma'am," Harry stated, troubled at the revelations of Dumbledore stealing from the fates and being lovers with the Dark Lord Grindelwald. "I heard a story, once, about the Elder Wand that said it was Dumbledore's… is that the same wand that has your powers? What about the other hallows? Are they even real?" Harry recalled an old story book he had read while procrastinating a potions essay in the Hogwarts library. As he thought of the book, he traced a symbol on the ground absentmindedly, not realizing that it was the symbol of the hallows until he was done with it.

"Indeed, young one. Our stolen powers are bound into the same gifts that our daughter, Lady Death, bestowed on the Peverell brothers. Dumbledore knew this, and used a forbidden ritual to go past the bounds of Lady Magic to corrupt the stone and your cloak, increasing his powers even further."

"Wait… my cloak? It's _the_ invisibility cloak? Why does no one ever tell me anything?"

"My dear child, there is so much you have yet to know," came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Harry, startling him as he realized it was the same mockingly sweet voice from before.

"Who… who are you?" asked Harry, as he turned around to see a woman standing behind him. She was immeasurably beautiful, but Harry thought there was something terrifying in her cold beauty. _It looks like her eyes could freeze me solid with hatred. Not even Snap is that bad!_ Harry thought fearfully.

"How right you are, child. I cannot reveal my name to you here, in the sacred groves, but rest assured that you will know me well. I shall see you soon, I am sure." As she ended her short and wholly-incomplete introduction, she began to fade out, leaving nothing but a small smile hanging in the air before she was gone completely. As the last of the red, smiling lips faded from view, Harry heard the voice one last time in his head, _And you are right, dear one. My chosen knight holds but a sliver of my power_. As the foreign thoughts faded from Harry's mind, he was left with a single lasting image of his potions professor, his ever-present sneer fixed firmly on his face.

"Ahh…" began Lachesis, "I was rather hoping to introduce this next part without _her_ influence. Shame, really. And no, child, I can no more say her name here than she could introduce herself." Lachesis continued, seeing the obvious question on Harry's face. "Rest assured, though, that you will see her again. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Your cloak is _the_ cloak, but as I said, it is corrupted, so it cannot be as perfect as when my daughter made it of her own essence. Tell me child, what do you know of the fae?"

"You mean like centaurs and fairies and trolls and such?" Harry asked, unsure about the sudden change in conversation.

"Precisely. You see, when my sisters and I found our powers reduced, it threw the entirety of our being out of balance. In order to restore order and direction to this universe, we had to … invest, so to speak. Our power was reduced, but we spread it out. In doing so, we were able to isolate the corruption that Albus brought into this universe, and push it back to the very edge. As we isolated the corruption, we were forced to split our efforts. Half went to fighting the corruption directly, unleashing terrible energy throughout the universe as we pushed back the corruption that had moved not only through space, but also time." At this, Lachesis paused, seeing a look of sheer incredulity on Harry's face.

"Indeed, young one, the forces that your headmaster called on were not minor, by any means. To even speak their name in the mortal world would bring great peril… to do so here would be disastrous beyond imagination. Now, as we wrought our terribly might upon the corruption, we also had to ensure that the universe itself was not destroyed in our efforts. To this end, half of our energy went towards … a protection, of sorts, And thus were born the two courts of Fae. Winter, to work our might against corruption, and Summer, to protect the rest of the universe against the forces of Winter. Forever intertwined with each other, it is only through working with both courts that you can fulfill your prophecy, dear child."

"Wait a moment," Harry began, everything suddenly coming into focus for him. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? There's another thrice-damned prophecy about me, that's why the dementors couldn't kill my soul. And I know who the Queen behind me was now, why can't I say her name?" Harry tried stuttering out the name, only to find his voice gone after the first sound.

"Yes, Harry," Lachesis used Harry's first name for the first time, filling him with a sense of dread, "The True Names of the Fae cannot be uttered in our grove, for doing so would draw the attention of their entire courts to us. Having that much of our power, once distributed over the entirety of the universe, drawn back at once would be… detrimental for continuation."

"Continuation of what?" Harry asked, immediately regretting it.

"Existence." Lachesis stated, ignoring the small "oh." that came from a much-subdued Harry. "Now, before we send you out of our glad to meet our four children, we three Fates combined, issues of the Lady Mother, Magic Herself, will tell unto you, Harry James Potter, the one true prophecy of this universe. Once told, you will be our Childe, borne of Magic, issue of Summer and Winter. Think well and truly, and know that we have stopped the horcrux from interfering with this choice. Of your own free will, Harry James Potter, will you hear your Fate?"

Harry had no idea what to say. On one hand, if he said no, there was a chance he could die when he returned, but he would still have a chance to beg mercy from Lady Death before he left. On the other hand, the horcrux would be left in him… and Sirius would still be dementor food. Suddenly, the choice became clear. As he made up his mind, the words to his answer came to him from a source he could only hope was Lady Magic herself.

In his strongest voice, calling upon all his magic, he began. "Atropos, Lachesis, Clotho. Fates of death, life, and birth. The End, The Allotter, The Origin. Thrice bade, thrice summoned, thrice named. I am Harry James Potter, and I submit myself to your powers. Speak unto my Fate. By Lady Magic's own hands, I ask you in your Names. Give prophecy, tell fate, speak truth."

"A wise answer, Childe of Magic." Lachesis stood up from her repose, and seemed to tower over Harry. As she spoke his new title, Harry began to feel a tingling, pulling sensation centered over his scar. The sensation increased as the Fate began the prophecy, until it was unbearable by the end.

" _When Wynter's Wizard fades from Litha's blessed light,_

 _And the darkness from beyond consumes him with fright,_

 _Then shall fall the Wizard in the hands of Queens_

 _And end the Table's fight with his Hallowed mien"_

"A prophecy given truly from the Fates thrice named. You are named, Harry James Potter. Be thou now, Harry James Potter, Childe of Magic, Wizard of Winter, Champion of Fate, Incarnate of the Lost God." As Lachesis, finished her proclamation, Harry felt a tremendous force gathering. As he looked around him, he noticed the ball of light that Atropos had described as the powers of a god slowly spinning in her hands, her shears having been set aside momentarily. To his right, Harry saw Clotho pulling a black thread - a thread, that Harry was startled to notice - came straight out of his forehead.

"You will be relieved to know, Childe, that your horcrux is no more. However, as in all things, balance is always maintained. Your magic, now tied directly to the Lady herself, needs to be expanded to fill what once was. To pointe, you are now the vessel of these powers." As she spoke in her graviling tone, Atropos rose and _pushed_ the ball of power into Harry's forehead. At once, Harry felt a blinding pain, then a burning through his whole body, focusing on his arms, legs, and back. _Right where Vernon always hit the hardest_ , Harry noticed.

"You are now the walking incarnation of the Lost God, the nameless power. Your scars have healed, and your body is whole and hale again. Go now, from this sacred grove. There is no more that we can do for you, our Childe." Lachesis seemed almost sad to Harry as she sent him on his way.

"Wait, Harry." Clotho spoke, addressing Harry for the first time directly. "There is one more thing I can do for you. Tell me, what is that still in your hands?" She indicated the orb of woods still slowly spinning in Harry's hand, forgotten since the beginning of Lachesis' tale.

"It's what brought me here, ma'am" Harry said calmly, slightly scared of the Fate who had _destroyed_ a god's power in its birth.

"Excellent. Woods of yew," as she spoke the wood, her body began to glow, "pine," the glow expanded to Lachesis, "and willow," Atropos was included in the glow, now binding the Fates all together. "From this orb, I give birth to a new wand for thee, Harry James Potter. Incomplete, it needs yet a core and a binding. I have no doubt that you shall soon find them. Go now, with this final gift." Harry looked at the newly-formed wand in his hand, pleased beyond measure that he could already feel the magic in the wood even without a core. _Or a binding, whatever that means_ , Harry thought as he heard what The Origin said.

"From here, we grant you leave, Harry James. Go forth, from this sacred grove, and find your path among our daughters four. Begone, begone, begone". As Atropos' grovoling voice faded at the end, so too did all three Fates begin to fade from view. When they were wholly gone, the path under Harry began to extend, forming a bridge off the island and back through the circle of willow trees, out of the grove. Harry took a look at the path, formed of the same ever-smooth granite, and had just one thought: _What the hell just happened?_

With that confusion in place, Harry continued his journey forward, unsure of his new future and unsuspecting that what he had just been through with the Fates would hardly be the most shocking thing to happen in this world away from the mortal realm.

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 **A/N** 4: Well, here it is, y'all. I'm sorry it took a day longer than I thought it would. With all the ridiculous weather in the midwest US this week, I had a lot more work than I was expecting. That being said, I think I'm on a good schedule now! I hope to have at least one chapter per week, minimum. Ideally, it will be closer to two or three, but no guarantees. As always, please favorite, follow, and review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	4. Meeting Death

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

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 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

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 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

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 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

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 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

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Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 4: Meeting Death

Previously: _"From here, we grant you leave, Harry James. Go forth, from this sacred grove, and find your path among our daughters four. Begone, begone, begone". As Atropos' grovoling voice faded at the end, so too did all three Fates begin to fade from view. When they were wholly gone, the path under Harry began to extend, forming a bridge off the island and back through the circle of willow trees, out of the grove. Harry took a look at the path, formed of the same ever-smooth granite, and had just one thought: What the hell just happened?_

Taking a breath as he prepared himself for whatever was to come, Harry began to walk forward. As he reached the edge of the circle grove, where he had just had his life turned upside-down, Harry took a minute to think about everything that had just happened. He was surprised, though, when he looked back to find that the Fates had not only disappeared, but so had the island he was on - lighthouse and all. _Of course,_ Harry thought bitterly, _why can't anything stay normal for fifteen seconds around the damned fates? Tell me I'm in charge of saving the entire bloody universe, then up and disappear without so much as a 'good luck'...blasted she-demons._

Starting down the path, still cursing the fates in his head, Harry began to think back on everything they had told him about himself, choosing to ignore the "save the universe from the evil headmaster" part for a minute. _Horcrux removed? Check. Actually able to think logically now? Check… and checkmate, Ms. I-only-break-laws-of-time-and-physics-but-never-school-rules-unless-it's-my-idea Granger. Owner of the True but corrupted Cloak of Invisibility? Check. Healed from the Dursleys? Check. New wand? Kind of check… the wood is there, at least. Now I just have to get the rest from the daughters of fate. Because that sounds normal._ Huffing at the last thought, Harry remembered the last few minutes in the grove. _Oh, yeah, the much more normal, totally not terrifying at all part. Childe of Magic, check. My magic tied directly to Lady Magic? Check. Absorbed powers of a freaking GOD? Definitely check_ , Harry thought as he called on his new-found power. Eying one of the many trees surrounding his path, Harry raised his wand and cast **INCENDIO**!

To Harry's surprise, he felt the pull of magic in his core like always, but nothing happened. No sparks, no fizz, no fire - nothing. Remembering that his wand didn't have a core, yet, Harry tried again, not moving his wand, but pointing and imagining a fire at the base of the tree where he had been aiming. **INCENDIO** , Harry cast again. Without hesitation, Harry could feel his magic leap through his outstretched hand. To his surprise, however, he didn't get the small fire at the base of the tree like he normally would. The entire tree burst into flame, from roots to crown, burning with a brilliant white-blue flame. _Uh...oops_ , Harry thought, wincing when he realized that the fire would probably spread. He was amazed to see when he began thinking of some way to control the fire, to call it back, that the flames began to pull off the tree, leaving a pile of bone-white ash in their wake. The flames coalesced, and as Harry held out his hand, hovered over it, a ball of pure-white fire that seemed to draw in air from around it. With a thought, Harry squeezed his hand shut, extinguishing the flames. As they went out, they let out a soft hiss and a burst of air, releasing everything they had drawn in and pushing Harry back several fcet. _Wicked_ , thought Harry _, I just killed a star._

Shaking his head, and making a mental note that he needed to control his flow of magic better once he returned to Hogwarts, lest he try to light a candle and accidently ignite a star in the middle of the great hall. Looking up, Harry realized that he was getting much closer to what he had initially thought was a statue in the middle of the path. As he came closer, he realized that the statue was in fact a woman, standing tall, and holding an honest-to-goodness scythe in her hand.

"Let me guess," Harry began as he walked towards the imposing woman, "Lady Death, I presume?"

"Indeed, child," replied Death, her voice much softer than Harry thought it would be. "But who are you, and how did you come to be on this sacred path?"

 _Oh boy,_ Harry thought, _the Fates didn't tell their daughters anything. This is going to be fun_. Pulling back his sarcasm as he remembered to whom he was talking, Harry figured that now was as good a time as any to come out of his shell and stand up for himself - finally. "I am Harry, ma'am"

"Just Harry?" Death asked. "No mere mortal has ever walked this path. Who are you truly, child?

"I am Harry James, Childe of Magic, Wizard of Winter, Champion of Fate, Incarnate of the Lost God, Heir of House Potter." Speaking his titles in full, Harry felt a rise in his magic, as if it was singing to him while he acknowledged his new titles for the first time. Glancing at his hands as he finished singing, Harry noted that he was, in fact, glowing with a pure-white aura. By this point, Harry was not surprised to notice that his aura was the same color as the magic he had cast at the trees.

"So it seems that my mothers three finally awoke the prophecy. Well spoken and well met, Harry James, Chosen One." Death seemed almost worshipful as she addressed Harry, reverence in her tone.

"Please, it's just Harry, Lady Death" Harry responded, uneasy with the respect he was getting from the literal embodiment of death itself.

"Very well, Harry." Death seemed much more at ease, and conjured up a pair of recliners, indicating for Harry to sit with her. "Now, do you know why you had to come see me?"

"No, I mean, you're the first of _their_ daughters, so I have to, right?" Harry asked, suddenly unsure of what Death wanted with him.

"It's because you are the true owner of my legacies," Death responded, gesturing towards Harry's pocket where he had placed his folded cloak. "You know their story, do you not?"

"I know the tale of the three brothers, yeah" Harry responded nervously, weary of what Death was going to tell him, especially given that she seemed to have been tricked in the story.

"Ahh, yes, my bard did a wonderful job at telling a fantasy, didn't he? Now settle child," Death began, noticing how restless Harry was getting. "I will not harm you this day, on that you have my word." Seeing Harry calm himself at her promise, Death began to tell the tale, the true tale, of the three brothers:

 _Twelve generations ago, your ancestors, the brothers Peverell, were a formidable team of necromancers. Binding my forces of death and using the power of the number three to reinforce their rituals, they began to conquer much of the known area of the time. As with all gifted warlords, the brothers three eventually came upon an insurmountable resistance to their conquerings. The name of their opposition has long since been forgotten, but know that the opposition's lineage eventually gave rise to the Gaunt family, young one, the same family that eventually gave rise to one Tom Riddle._

 _Having met their first true opposition against which my summoned and bound forces would not win, the brothers spent a year developing a new ritual, one so mighty that they could not predict what it would summon or bind. On the next Samhain, the night where the veil is the weakest between this world and the lands of the dead, the brothers enacted their rite. From the first darkening of twilight to the last glimpse of moonlight the next morn, the brothers summoned. When it was all said and done, they found themselves exhausted, but successful. Do you know, Childe Incarnate, who they summoned? Of course you do. Me. Lady Death, First Daughter of Atropos, Lachesis, and Clotho, the Bringer of the End._

 _I was, quite fairly, perturbed at first. A summoning is as rough on the summoned as it is the summoners. That it took three master necromancers the entirety of their not-inconsiderable powers should tell you how displeased I was. In retrospect, I suppose I may have taken out my frustrations on the poor brothers…_

 _Frightened by my sudden appearance as Samhain ended with moonset, in the time between moonset and sunrise, the brothers had let their concentration lapsed. When I asked the brothers wherefore they hath summoned me, of all entities, I received three very different answers. A word to the wise, little one - should you ever come to summon any powerful entity, you best know very well what you want. Instead of turning all three brothers to stone for eternity, an existence neither fully alive or dead, I heard all three requests and, in a measure of spite extreme for even me, granted them._

 _Antioch, the most power-starved of the three, had asked me for 'a weapon to kill all others'. For him, the most destructive of the three, I fashioned a wand of my own breastbone like this - Oh, come now dear, I'm an entity of the Fates, I can take any form I need, no need to get sick! - and to the eldest, I gave a true Death Wand. Made from the heart of death, it would win against all other weapons and conduct power more fully than any other wand. And so the eldest brother began to conquer not only far-strung lands with his brothers, but also individual wizards along his way. Poor Antioch failed to realize that it was only his wand that was enhanced - not his position as its wielder. In the middle of the night, as he lay to rest, a thief saw the shining black wand, and took it for himself, slitting the first brother's throat for good measure. And thus I took for mine the soul of Antioch Peverell, eldest of the Peverell Three._

 _Cadmus, aware of his elder brother's innate stupidity and likelihood to wind up dead one way or another, asked asked for a way to bring back the dead. After all, what is dead can never die, and a dead necromancer who returns to your earth is all but unstoppable, no? To the middle brother, then, I gave a pure diamond, wrapped in the blackest of my essences, to call back from the lands of the dead what had left the earth. After hearing of his elder brother's untimely end, Cadmus activated the stone, calling for what he thought he wanted most - his lost brother returned, to continue a tradition of necromancy and conquering. What poor Cadmus did not realize was that he did not truly want his brother back - he wanted his brother's power. Since the power had been bound to My wand, and not to the elder brother himself, Cadmus had tried to call from the lands of the dead what had not yet died. As he opened the portal to the lands of the dead, he then cast an empty summons, which, as any worthwhile necromancer would know, is the same as a reverse summons. And so Cadmus found himself summoned through the veil between worlds. And thus I took for mine the soul of Cadmus Peverell, middle of the Peverell Three._

 _Ignotus, far wiser than either of his older brothers, realized that as necromancers, if they were to never die, then they could conquer forever as death, like all progress, creeps ever forward, even if time slows it down. He asked me for a way that he might escape Death myself. For the wisest of the three, I gave a part of my own soul - really, child! No need to look shocked, it's not like I don't have enough souls IN THE LANDS OF THE DEAD, after all. As it was on the mortal earth, and not in a Realm of Fate like the one you find yourself in now, my soul manifested itself into a solid cloak, indeed, the very cloak you now carry with you. It was my intention that the young brother would learn how to merge the soul into his own, but I had overlooked a very minor detail. As in any merging of souls, the most dominant soul will win and give the new, combined soul more of its characteristics than anything with which it has been merged. So too did the proud Ignotus discover when he tried to merge his soul with mine. As soon as they merged, death, the very antithesis to Ignotus' initial desire to preserve his own life, became a core part of his own being - along with curiosity, an altogether bad mix. Not long after, his new obsession with death led him to summon me once more (yes, he was powerful enough to do so on his own), and asked me to take him with myself as I returned to my Lands. Willingly, the young brother left the earth with me, eager to learn more about what lies beyond the veil, and so I gained the soul of Ignotus Peverell, youngest of the Peverell Three._

"I… I'm not sure what to say. The Bard had it all wrong! How did the cloak survive? Why hasn't it tried to corrupt me? What do I do with it now? Oh gods, it's your soul! Please take it back!" Harry, in a struggle to process the true tale of the Three Brothers, had begun to revert to his base instincts and freak out.

"Calm yourself, child." Death was clearly amused by Harry's reaction. When she had finished laughing, much to Harry's building ire, she continued, "In order, then - the Bard wrote as I asked him to. I did not want the foolishness of the brothers to be repeated by others trying to summon me, but neither could I let their tale be completely forgotten. The cloak I willingly left behind Ignotus for his heirs, as a memento and reminder - curiosity is always welcome, but every action comes with a price. It is only up to the one asking questions to determine if the price is worth the knowledge. The cloak, as my essence, is ...aware, for lack of a better term, of what you would become. I would rather not try to tempt the Childe of Magic and Champion of my Mothers to try to kill me for corrupting him, however indirectly."

"That… actually makes a lot of sense" Harry admitted, his ire beginning to abate as Death explained herself.

"Quite. I find that I usually do, if mortals are open to listening, at least. Anyway, even if I wanted that part of my soul back, I can no longer take it. It is yours, Harry James. As scion of the Fates, Childe of Magic, and Incarnate of the Lost God, you can merge its - my - true essence with your soul, without the same price as the youngest Peverell had to pay. You are divine, child. Perhaps not _the_ divine [at least not yet] -"

"Wait, WHAT?" Harry shouted, shocked at the last part.

"You weren't supposed to hear that yet, never you mind about it. It may not come to pass, yet or here. Or maybe it already had, but just not there. The strands of time and fate give me a headache to follow some days. Now stop interrupting."

"Ohhhkay… okay. Ignoring that there's a Fate where I am The Divine, capital letters. Check. Sure. Okay. No problem." quipped Harry, evidently not as accepting of the multiverse of possibilities his burgeoning divinity created as Lady Death was.

"Much better. As I was saying, the soul is now yours. I can bind it to you, or let you absorb it into yourself; it is your choice. A binding will not last forever, but absorption is not a gentle procedure. You must choose, Harry." Harry noted that Death sounded almost disappointed as she mentioned absorption.

"I want to absorb it." Harry said immediately, with determination.

"If you are sure, then let us begin. You need to be laying down for this." Death instructed Harry. Seeing his nod, then his body laying down on the earth in front of her, Death waved her hands over the young wizard, raising a slab of stone under him to raise him on a table. Funny enough, Harry noted sarcastically, the stone was made of the same pitch-black granite as the rest of the Fates' Realm. Harry was really getting tired of black granite.

Death warned Harry that he might be better off closing his eyes, and seeing his compliance, also summoned a soft leather cord and put it between Harry's teeth. Knowing that nothing good was about to come, Harry braced himself for the worst.

Seeing that he was as ready as he could be, Death gathered her hands over Harry's heart, and collected a golden-white ball of energy in them. As more energy gathered, the color shifted, from golden white, to pure white, to the same bluish-white hue that Harry's aura had manifested earlier. In the middle of the white was a small river of black, the only taint on the ball of light. By this point, Harry was obviously in pain, biting on the cord with all his strength and sweating to the point of soaking his clothes. "For what it is worth, I am sorry about this, my child," Death whispered, before taking a breath and _yanking_ the mass of energy straight up of Harry's chest. As soon as the energy lost contact with Harry's skin, he let out a scream so loud and filled with so much agony that even the stone table beneath him shook with its power. Holding Harry's soul (Harry eventually realized that's what the energy was) in her left hand, Death made an arcane motion at her cloak, now laying on the ground opposite Death of Harry. Twisting her wrist in a loop, Death drew her essence from the cloak. Pure black, reminding Harry of muggle stories of black holes so deep even light could not escape, her essence drifted towards her outstretched hand. As it came closer, Harry saw Death's essence begin to lose all color, until it was finally a perfectly transparent ball of energy held in her right hand, distorting the air just enough that Harry could still tell it was there - if he concentrated hard enough through the pain, at least. Merging the two, Death pushed her hands together, letting out a thunderclap of light and sound as the souls touched and became one.

As the light faded, Harry noticed he was back on his feet, and standing in front of Death once more. "Please, let's agree, never rip my soul out again, okay?" Harry asked, much to Death's amusement.

"I did warn you," she said smugly. "But fear not. You will recall the Fates' discussion of a horcrux? No doubt you saw the black streak in your soul. It is gone now, and you are free of this abomination" Death said proudly, holding up a black ball with a face Harry recognized from his tribulation in the Chamber of Secrets the year before. "Yes, youngling, you had one of _his_ horcruxes inside you. Nested behind your scar, to be specific. But now it is mine, yes mine, mine, MINE" Death cackled, her glee tinged with a degree of otherworldly insanity. "And what's this? He made MORE? Oh how FUN!" As Death looked into the sphere with young Voldemort's face on it, images began to swim around her. Harry saw what he thought was a large necklace, a strange cup, a snake, a burnt-up diary, and a ring in the swirling images, all with Tom Riddle's young face on their surface. "No, no, this isn't right," Death muttered, ignoring Harry for the moment. Reaching _into_ the inky sphere of Riddle's captured soul, she pulled with all of her effort. Death heaved one last time, and out of the sphere rose one last image - a crown of sorts, only this one had two separate faces on it - Tom Riddle, and, to Harry's shock, that of his own headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. As soon as she saw this, Death let out a scream of anger and might, causing the entire area around them to shake with her fury.

Harry recognized the image of Dumbledore as very nearly the same as when he first showed up at Hogwarts, three years earlier. _For some reason, I feel like he was waiting for me to create that_ , Harry mused as he waited for Death to calm herself.

Calming herself, Death began to explain herself to Harry. "Forgive me, child. I did not know that the despicable man had sunk this low. I see clearly now that I chose right by allowing you to merge with my essence. Not only can you now transition out of the view of mortal at will, but also avoid detection by any mortal means. Innate to you, you will now find the hidden aspect of my personality, the creeping death that no one sees until it is far too late.

"Beyond that, though, you have been named heir and Lord to the Peverell brothers. The first to fully accept my essence in thirteen generations, you need must go to my allies in the mortal realm to seek the rest of your lordships." Seeing Harry's confusion, Death clarified, "Seek out the goblins in their bank, and request a meeting with Ragnok by your full name. Now that you have obtained a divine lordship, all your other lordships should also be available to you. You are Divine Lord Harry James Potter-Peverell, Childe of Magic, Issue of Both Courts of Fae, Winter's Wizard, Champion of Fate, Incarnate of the Lost God. Your name has true power, use it well."

"Thank… thank you, Lady Death." Harry said solemnly, feeling the weight of Death's declaration settle around him, adding to his magic and heightening his sensation with the newfound abilities.

"I have one last gift for you, dear one. In return for having accepted the loose part of my soul, I give to you all knowledge I can find on combat, divine and mortal, magical and physical. This knowledge I give to you by my own accord. You must earn the skills to use the knowledge, but the knowledge shall always be there." As she spoke, Death reached out one finger, and tapped Harry on the center of his forehead. As her finger connected, Harry realized he instinctively _knew_. He _knew_ how to respond to threats and traps; he _knew_ more spells than any book-loving authority-worshiping tag-along ever could; he _knew_ how to move to deflect and return any physical hit; he _knew_ how to use any weapon he could think of. As Harry reflected on what he now knew, he also realized that he didn't have the strength, coordination, or dexterity to perform nine out of ten of the techniques or spells Death put in his mind. _And that's what Granger would never appreciate_ , thought Harry. _Books and knowledge only get you so far before your curiosity is a trap, convincing you to do more than you actually can_.

Smiling at the wizard in front of her, Death said her farewells to the new Lord Potter-Peverell. "Remember two things, wizard mine. First: temperance of curiosity and ability will see you far. Second: when you leave this Realm, you will find that your wand core is a third of my realm - my steed, the Nocturnal Thestral, gave a fiber from his tail when you were recuperating from your soul merge. Continue ever onward, Lord Wizard, and know that you walk with Lady Death's blessings."

Bowing towards the daughter of the fates, Harry turned to see a continuation in the granite path. As he walked forward, he heard Death remount her statuesque base, muttering all the while. As he passed by, all he could make out were her faint mutterings about "long bearded gits playing with fate" and pounding of her scythe on the stone in a beat that seemed to spell out a certain ten-syllabled headmaster's name.

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 **A/N3** : Sorry this was a day late, y'all! Real-world work got super busy with the nice weather coming to town all of the sudden. As always, please review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	5. Dance with Destiny

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

* * *

 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

* * *

Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 5: Dance with Destiny

 _ **Previously**_ _: Smiling at the wizard in front of her, Death said her farewells to the new Lord Potter-Peverell. "Remember two things, wizard mine. First: temperance of curiosity and ability will see you far. Second: when you leave this Realm, you will find that your wand core is a third of my realm - my steed, the Nocturnal Thestral, gave a fiber from his tail when you were recuperating from your soul merge. Continue ever onward, Lord Wizard, and know that you walk with Lady Death's blessings."_

As he left Lady Death, turning towards the black granite path, Harry found himself wondering how much longer he would be in the realm of the Fates, instead of back at Hogwarts. The more he thought about returning, the more worried he became: _What happened to Sirius? Are the dementors still there? How long have I been here? What about Snape? And Remus? Did Ron get eaten? Is he a werewolf now?_ Harry stopped for a moment, noticing that he had been almost running in his haste to get out of whatever realm he was in, and realized with a start that even though he cared what happened to Ron, he couldn't muster himself to care at all for Granger - in fact, he wasn't even thinking of her by her first name anymore. _What happened? It feels like I don't care about her at all… I don't hate her, it's just like she doesn't matter. Like she's one in a crowd of hundreds. Ever since Tom's_ [because he refused to call the Dark Lord by his poorly-made French moniker] _horcrux left me, it's like a cloud lifted. I can think normally now. But why does that impact how I feel about her? Unless those feelings were under some sort of influence too…_

As he began to connect the dots about his former friend, Harry was startled to find that he was no longer alone. Looking up, he found an old woman walking next to him. Not that Harry would want to insult any denizen of the Fates' realm, but she honestly was old. Her back slightly hunched, supported by a cane in her right hand, she surprisingly kept pace with Harry's admittedly-hurried pace.

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. I didn't quite notice you there," Harry apologize when he saw that the woman had noticed him staring at her.

"That's quite alright, child. Your thoughts were much too heavy for you to pay attention to your surroundings" she replied.

"Wait - if you can hear my thoughts, that means your a deity of some sort." Piecing together the clues, and the warning from the Fates that he would visit their children, Harry knew who was walking next to him. "I must say, though, Lady Destiny, it is rather nice to be able to think clearly for once."

"So you figured it out? Well good. I'm proud that you're free of that miserable cloud of hatred, then." Destiny replied. "Do you know why you walk with me, child?"

"Honestly? I figured it was just another game for the fates" Harry responded with a shrug.

"You would be surprised how right you are, young one. Tell me, have you ever seen a true destiny? Of course not, how could you. Forgive me, I get the timelines confused after a while. Come here, and see what I have seen." Destiny walked away from Harry, gesturing towards a conjured mirror from the black granite - _a looking glass_ , Harry realized. As Harry peered into the mirror, expecting to see his reflection, he instead saw a cloudy haze. As Destiny waved her hand over the mirror, Harry saw the cloud take shape. The fog dissipated to reveal what looked like a sideways figure-eight rug - _an infinity tapestry_ , Harry realized - with hundreds of different coloured threads running through it. Each thread, Harry saw, started at a white point on the left, tied into a single gold point in the middle of the tapestry, and ended at a black point on the right. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Harry thought he knew what he was looking at. "This is me, isn't it?" Harry asked Destiny, pointing at the golden point.

"You are much more perceptive now than you were with that scourge in your head. Yes. This is the Tapestry of Fate for this cycle, woven by my mothers. Every fate in this universe begins at The Origin, and continues to The End. Before you accepted your divinity, young one, these threads wove their own web. It was a fascinating tapestry, to be sure, but one without order or sense." Pausing here, Destiny sent what Harry could only describe as a Significant Look, emphasis on the capital letters. "Since you accepted your divinity at the hands of my dear elder sister, the Tapestry has reformed. Every thread, every fate, every existence is now yours to impact." Destiny spoke with a certainty that frightened Harry more than the sudden image of responsibility. In lieu of responding to Destiny's proclamation, Harry looked further into the looking glass, seeing for the first time that there were threads not part of the infinite cycle - some red (on the left), some blue (on the right), but most an inky black almost indistinguishable from the granite surface (surrounding everything else).

"Lady Destiny, I appreciate being shown my importance, but that can't be the sole reason why I'm here. What are these strands, the ones not tied to your mothers?" Harry winced as he heard the impertinence in his own tone, but let the question remain, feeling it important to know what fates he could not change.

"You are the astute one," Destiny replied, sounding strangely proud of Harry and accepting the tone of his question. "The red, if you look closely, are indeed tied to The Origin, but do not connect to The End. Conversely, the blue are tied to The End, but not The Origin. The black lines, the bane of our existence in this realm and the realm on earth, are formed where the two meet. Can you not think of whose threads these are, now that you know their true place?"

Thinking quickly, Harry thought back to the explanation of the Fae that the Fates had told him. "The red would be the Summer Court, and the Blue would be Winter, right?" Seeing Destiny nod, Harry hazarded another guess. "These are the true strands of time and fate that your sister mentioned, aren't they?"

"Indeed they are, young one. Knowing that, Lord Peverell-Potter, I ask you again, do you know what the black strands represent?" Seeing Harry shake his head, a very confused look on his face, Destiny took a breath, as if to brace herself, and spoke again. "Very well. The knowledge, it seems, has been hidden from you. An admirable, but foolish, attempt by my sister, I'm sure. She meant well dear, to keep you safe from this knowledge, but it was not meant to be. Am I correct in assuming she did not fill you in on rites and rituals, or the mental arts?"

"No ma'am, but if she meant to keep me safe, could she perhaps not get in too much trouble?" Harry asked, seeing Destiny's frown deepen.

"Oh, young lord… I can no more trouble Death than Death can kill Destiny. We are dependent upon the other, as much as sisters frustrate each other so. Very well then, I need must do this fully and formally, that no essential knowledge is left from you - though you should know that while I can unlock your _ability_ to know these things, there are some things I cannot myself teach you. Does this make sense?" Destiny asked. Seeing Harry nod, she continued, "then I ask you again. Divine Lord Harry James Potter-Peverell, Childe of Magic, Issue of Both Courts of Fae, Winter's Wizard, Champion of Fate, Incarnate of the Lost God, know thee for what stands the blackest threads in the Web of Destiny, bane of the Realms of Fates and Man, cursed suffering brought forth by the Darkness from Beyond?"

Feeling the ceremony of the occasion when Destiny used his full name and title, Harry responded with equal gravitas. "Thrice asked and thrice denied, Lady Destiny, Daughter of Fate."

"So it is. Brace yourself, child, for this will not be pleasant." Smiling gently, she reached out and _pushed_ her magic into Harry's head, through where his trademark scar used to be, the notable mark having faded when the horcrux left.

As soon as her magic hit, Harry felt a searing, ripping, burning sensation travel through his head - _no, not my head,_ Harry thought, mentally distancing himself from the pain, _my brain itself_. As the magic passed to and fro in Harry's brain, he had fleeting images and feelings, like he was trying to remember lessons long ago forgotten.

 _A ritual circle, surrounded by ancient runes. Words of ancient languages, the olde tongues still used by the various races of magical beings. Arithromancy charts and spell diagrams of long-forgotten spells, not seen in millenia. Techniques for concentrating magical power and sending it to another - the origins of modern legilimency and occlumency. Words of power, names of ancient and powerful beings. A clearing in the middle of a grove, sun shining down on half with a blizzard on the other, a stone table in the middle. Two sets of three, a mother, a queen, and a young lady. Dragons soaring high, shouting in their own language. Glory, happiness, and light. Pain, fear, and darkness._

As Harry regained his senses, shutting his mouth - _when did I even start screaming?_ \- and catching his breath, he realized what the black threads represented. With a start, he turned to Destiny. "They're the Outsiders aren't they? And the three large ones, braided around the dark cord that almost looks like an eel, or a worm - they're the…"

"HUSH, dear one" Destiny interrupted, looking truly frightened at what Harry was about to say. "Think about what I showed you, and what you were about to say. Those names have power here - this realm is a true circle of power. I dare say you do not want those three here?"

Seeing his mistake, Harry gulped "...no ma'am. But may I ask this? They're the ones that Dumbledore summoned, aren't they? They're how he corrupted everything?"

"And now you see part of the true fate in front of you. Yes, Dumbledore called all three of the leaders of the Outsiders, as well as their pet, our Enemy. The one who allow beings of power, beings bound by their word, to lie. If you were to ask your headmaster, Lord divine, that would be his only mistake in this entire sordid ordeal. He has unleashed the Enemy that we worked so hard to corral, and in doing so, lost himself powerful allies amongst the Fae." Seeing Harry's look of understanding, Destiny knew her role as a guide for the young wizard was done.

"I think I understand now, Lady Destiny. Not only do I need to find and destroy all of Riddle's horcruxes, I also need to defeat Riddle himself. And then, I'm assuming, deal with Dumbledore?" Seeing Destiny nod, Harry continued, "And his horcrux or horcruxes, however many he made. Then I need to send the Outsiders back beyond the Outer Gates. And return Nem… the Enemy [having seen Destiny's sharp look when he began to say the name, Harry had quickly corrected himself] to the same. Then I have to somehow stop the Queens of Fae from trying to destroy each other, and in turn, literally all of creation? Did I get it all?"

"Oh, my sweet child. You are correct, of course, but there is so much more ahead of you than your tasks. Take this venom, collected from the first true acromantula, and bind it in your wand once you have the third core component from my twin sisters. Go now, in peace and knowledge, Divine Lord Potter-Peverell." Destiny handed over a vial full of a thick, black liquid with a smell pungent enough to make Harry's eyes water.

Turning once more to continue around [not down, Harry remembered - he was, after all, walking on a true circle of power - whatever that meant] the granite path, Harry bid goodbye to Destiny. "Fare thee well, Lady Destiny, daughter of the Fates."

"And you, our dear Champion."

* * *

 **A/N** 3: A bit introspective this round, the next chapter, when Harry meets the twins, will be up soon! It should have a bit more action in it… after all, when do twins ever go without hijinks? As always, please read, favorite, follow and review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	6. Fortune Favors the Bold

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 6: Fortune Favors the Bold

 _ **Previously:**_ _"I think I understand now, Lady Destiny. Not only do I need to find and destroy all of Riddle's horcruxes, I also need to defeat Riddle himself. And then, I'm assuming, deal with Dumbledore?" Seeing Destiny nod, Harry continued, "And his horcrux or horcruxes, however many he made. Then I need to send the Outsiders back beyond the Outer Gates. And return Nem… the Enemy [having seen Destiny's sharp look when he began to say the name, Harry had quickly corrected himself] to the same. Then I have to somehow stop the Queens of Fae from trying to destroy each other, and in turn, literally all of creation? Did I get it all?"_

" _Oh, my sweet child. You are correct, of course, but there is so much more ahead of you than your tasks. Take this venom, collected from the first true acromantula, and bind it in your wand once you have the third core component from my twin sisters. Go now, in peace and knowledge, Divine Lord Potter-Peverell." Destiny handed over a vial full of a thick, black liquid with a smell pungent enough to make Harry's eyes water._

Having taken the venom from Lady Destiny and continued on the path, Harry was more curious than anything about what the twins of Fates, Ladies Luck and Fortune, would bring him. _Death and Destiny both gave me advice and knowledge… and parts for my wand, I guess. But is that all I'm here for? Walking in an endless circle on this Merlin-damned granite, talking to the gods that control the universe but not being able to actually do anything?_ Despite his supernaturally increased and unbound intelligence, Harry was still a teenager, and thus, prone to brooding. He snapped out of it, however, when he heard laughing nearby.

"Oh dear sister mine!"

"Is that a worried wizard I see?  
"I most certainly hope so!"

Looking up, Harry saw who he could only assume were the Twins of the Fates, the Ladies Luck and Fortune. Each wore a simple gold robe, and each wore a simple circlet of what appeared to be diamond in her long, black hair.

"My dearest wizard -" the first twin spoke,

"What troubles you so?" The other twin continued, speaking in a way that reminded Harry of Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George.

Already getting a headache from the twin-speak and aggravated from being trapped in the Realm of Fates, Harry was not altogether amused by the twins in front of him. "I'm trapped in this forsaken realm. I have no way to get back home. I don't know what happened to my body or my godfather. I have no idea if I scared off the dementors. I have a massive headache from dealing with your mothers and sisters. I am, apparently, supposed to save the entire bloody universe, and to top it off, I have no wand!" Harry was almost shouting by the end of his mini rant.

"Oh dear one," the first twin (Harry named her _Twin 1_ in his head) started,

"How very much we have to tell and to show you!" Continued Twin 2.

"Let us take apart your worries" Twin 1 was smiling as she spoke.

"Just one item at a time" Twin 2 echoed her twin's smile.

"Alright, alright, I'll calm down! Just please, for the love of everything, stop with the twin speak! I can barely follow it when the Weasley brothers do it, and I at least can tell them apart. And yes, your ladyships, I would _quite_ enjoy some answers to really any of my concerns." Harry wasn't sure why, perhaps it was his familiarity with the Weasley twins kicking in, perhaps it was the fact neither twin carried a scythe or read his mind, but he felt much more comfortable with the Twins of the Fates than he did with Lady Death or Lady Destiny. In retrospect, Harry thought that maybe his familiarity could have bled over into impertinence. Just maybe.

"Those are all fair requests. Know then, young one, that I am Fortune" replied the one Harry had named Twin 1. "And this is my twin sister, Luck. As for finding differences between us, I wish you the best chances, as none have found any yet."

"In the very least, my Ladies, I am grateful that the twinspeak has stopped" Harry responded, feeling his headache abating already.

"You are welcome, young lord" Luck responded. "Now let us see what we can tell you about your concerns." As she pondered, Harry got the impression that there were somethings that he couldn't be told - even if the Ladies knew about them.

"You are concerned about your mutt of a dogfather, yes?" Fortune asked. Seeing Harry's ire at Sirius being called a mutt, Fortune raised her hands in peace. "Easy, Harry. Sirius Orion the Third, of House Black, is well known to us."

"He is?" Harry gasped, awed that his godfather was known by the fates.

"Yes indeed. He and Sir Prince, Knight of Winter are both favored in this realm." Fortune's sister replied.

"I suppose that's good, right?" Harry asked, unsure of who this Sir Prince would be.

"It is generally considered a good thing by mortals to be favored by Luck and Fortune" Luck answered again, smirking when Harry realized that the origins of that saying were more literal than he thought.

"Now, as for answers you seek. Since we are mirrored aspects of the same entity," Fortune began, motioning to her twin and herself, "We have rather more contact with the Mortal realm than our sisters or mothers. In fact, we have seen you and your godfather many times more than they. As we are two sides of the same, we can combine, so to speak, and exist in an avatar in your realm. You would know us well, then." Ignoring Harry's curious look, Luck continued with the answers.

"You will see us soon as our avatar, I am sure." She started. "As for your godfather, you may know this: He is safe and his soul is still inside his body. Sir Prince, Knight of Winter, defends him still." At this, Harry collapsed onto a conveniently-placed [or one that was there in a fit of _good fortune_ ] bench.

"That's …. That's incredible." Harry said, relief obvious in his voice. "Wait a moment, though… you said this Knight, Sir Prince, still defends him. How long have I been away?"

Fortune laughed, "Oh child! Considering all the time differences between realms and across the vast fabric of space-time?" Harry gulped, afraid of having been gone for weeks, or worse, years. "About one."

"Erm…" Harry was very confused by this answer. "One what?"

"One heartbeat, of course! This is the Realm of Fate, the Land Between, where existence starts in a moment's breath!"

Quickly thinking through what Fortune said, Harry clarified, "So all this time, between meeting the Fates, the Queen whose name cannot be spoken, your sisters, even now… it has all been less than a second?"

"Of course, dear. Time has little meaning to those that rise above the Realm of Man." Ignoring the "bloody hell" that escaped from Harry, Fortune continued, "First things, though, let us see to your wand. You are familiar with rituals, now, yes?" Seeing Harry nod, she smiled. "Good! Now, take your wand woods and cores, and follow this ritual to combine them." Fortune ended by handing Harry a scroll with an admittedly simple ritual outline, Harry realized. Except there was a problem.

"Pardon me, Lady Fortune, but I only have two of my cores. I can't fill a triangle unless I have three or nine, right?" Harry was concerned that he would never get a wand back at this point.

"Ahh, you haven't claimed your conquests yet, have you?" Luck asked, seeing the problem at once.

"No ma'am, I don't even know what they are." Harry was, for all his newfound knowledge, still not used to thinking things through.

"You saved a treasure of magic, and defeated a class XXXXX creature in the last two years, did you not?"

"Well, sure, but Ron at least helped with -"  
"Nope!" Fortune interjected, cutting Harry off before he could continue down-playing his accomplishments. "These are all you, young one. As their saviour and conqueror, each prize is still connected to you. Reach out with your magic, and feel which would work better with your two cores."

Harry moved from the bench to the ground, placing his palms flat next to him, and called up his magic, the now-familiar blue-white manifesting around his body as he closed his eyes ion concentration.

"Good," Fortune coached. "Now reach, and find which one works".

Harry struggled for a minute, his magic not knowing where to go. He thought of the Mirror of Erised, and pushed with his magic towards his mental picture of the trap.

"It feels like it's there, but my magic isn't connecting to the Stone," Harry reported. "Let me try the basilisk."

Reaching out with his magic again, Harry tried to think of where he left the slain corpse in the Chamber of Secrets, but all he saw through his magic was a snake-covered door. Realizing what he had to do, Harry thought of the hallways in Hogwarts, starting from his familiar dorm room. Down from the seventh floor, through the Grand Staircase, to the second floor bathroom, Harry imagined himself walking through the halls of his school. When he got to Myrtle's bathroom, he realized he had to get back down to the Chamber. Hissing at the sinks once more, || _Open_ ||, Harry saw the pipes and door opening, until he was back in the Chamber of Secrets and looking at the slain basilisk. Reaching with his magic once more, Harry stretched towards the slain snake and felt his magic connect with the eye stalk that had evaded Fawkes' rescue the year before.

As his eyes were still closed, Harry missed the Significant Look that Fortune and Luck traded each other. "Sister mine," Fortune began, "is he really …" "Yes indeed, dear sister. Astral projection between planes of existence. You know who the last one to do such a thing was, yes?" "Yes, I remember her well… we even made her Queen of a Court, did we not?" "Too true, too true. Tell me, Luck, what do you see with our chosen champion?" "Fortune, my dear sister, you know as well as I that his future is obscured from our sister's tapestry. We will just have to wait and see… though I don't think anyone would begrudge us sticking around on the mortal realm to watch first hand what happens." "Aye, you are right as ever, Luck."

Still oblivious to the conversation the twins were having about him, Harry opened his eyes and called back his magic, the blue-ish hue dissolving around him.

"It's the basilisk" Harry stated. "I'm sure of it. I don't know what purpose the stone serves, since I can almost feel it the same as the basilisk, but the basilisk is the last part of my wand."

"Excellent, child!" Cried Fortune, glad that Harry had missed her conversation with her sister. "Now claim it and call the reward to you, so that you may have your wand once more. Think, child, and the words will come to you. Beware, though, you need must use your full name and title."

"I understand, Lady Fortune" Harry responded, equally understanding that use of his full name and title would also signify to magic that he accepted his name and title - and also his role that the Fates gave to him.

 _I, Harry James, Divine Lord of Potter and Peverell, Childe of Magic, Issue of Both Courts of Fae, Wizard of Winter, Champion of Fate, Incarnate of the Lost God,_

By this point, Harry was glowing with a blindingly bright aura.

 _In the name of Magic, I claim the Basilisk of Salazar Slytherin. Slain by my hand in combat, I assert all rights of conquest thereto. I call upon Magic to judge my claim fairly and rend unto me my conquest. I am Harry James, Conqueror of Slytherin!_

At the last, Harry clapped his hands together, letting out a thunderous sound and flash of light that shook the entire path where he stood. As the last of the spots faded from his view and his hearing returned, Harry noticed the eye stalk from the basilisk - the very same he had seen while projecting to the chamber - lying at his feet.

"Well done, and well named, Conqueror of Slytherin" Luck said fondly. "Now that you have claimed your conquest, you may integrate the eye stalk into your wand. Out of curiosity, what other cores have you been given?"

"Thank you, Lady Luck. I guess I did give myself another title, didn't I?" Harry commented with a shrug, deciding to deal with the fallout from that particular choice later. "I was also given the hair of Death's Nocturnal Thestral, and venom from the first true acromantula." As he told Luck about his other cores, Harry realized that there was only one ritual that could bind the cores together, and it wasn't the one Fortune had given him earlier.

"With your permission, Lady Fortune, I would return this to you." Harry told her, reaching out with the scroll.

"Of course, child, but why?" Fortune said, tucking the scroll back into whatever pocket she had taken it from.

"My cores are balanced across three of the five elements - I want to do a binding that recognizes that. I still have this, afterall, for fire, and I think that pure magic given by the Childe of Magic would work for the fifth element, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, gesturing to the fiery-red phoenix feather that was left from his old wand.

"Ahh. That makes… a lot of sense." Fortune responded, sounding almost proud that Harry had gone beyond what she had prepared for him. "But you realize that you will need considerable power for this ritual, right?"

"That I do, Lady Fortune, and that is where I need your permission - or rather, your forgiveness." Seeing Fortune's curious look, Harry explained with a question. "Do you always walk on this granite path? Has it always been this dark?"

"Well no, only when we exercise our powers as daughters of the Fates…" Fortune responded, having a sinking feeling about where this was going.

"That's what I hoped you would say," Harry answered back. "Do you feel any weaker in your power now than when the path was new, and your powers fresh?"

"Well no, our powers exist outside of mortal restrictions and bindings, so they are near-infinite in their own right." Fortune answered with a sigh, thinking that the wizard in front of her was going to burn out his own core and that they would need to find a new champion - again.

"Excellent. Then if you please, your brethren might like to see this. I doubt anyone has attempted this in a very long while, but if it works, then this wand may triumph even over the wand used by Dumbledore to open the Outer Gates and bind those from Beyond."

Startling Harry, an all-to-familiar groveling voice spoke from behind him. "We are all here, as we have always been and shall always be, our Champion. As we return you to the Isle of Light, we will allow you to perform this ritual." Atropos said. Waving their arms in tandem, the Fates, who had appeared around Harry, caused a _shift_ in the air, and Harry found himself back at the base of the lighthouse on a island, surrounded by the black granite.

"Lady Fates, you do honor me in your presence once more. Lady Death, Lady Destiny, my fondest welcome to yourselves as well as you join your twin sisters." Seeing the acknowledgement of all seven Fates around him, the family so-to-speak having arranged themselves in a seven-pointed star, Harry knew he had their blessing for what he was about to attempt.

Reaching behind him, Harry placed Fawkes' feather to his left, with the Nocturnal Thestral hair pulled from his wand core to his right. In front of himself, Harry placed the eye stalk to his left and the venom to his right. Waving his hand toward the black granite, Harry reached with his magic and _pulled_ , forming a small bowl, which he set in front of himself. Wiping his nose _\- when did my nose start bleeding?_ \- and realizing that wandless summoning and transfiguration was still well-beyond him, Harry took a few breaths to center himself. Looking around himself at the seven Fates once more, Harry was encouraged to see that they all were nodding at him, as if to reassure him that he had permission to channel such great powers as he was about to try. Without any more delay (procrastination, Harry chided himself), Harry took a few deep breaths and began the ritual by picking up his now empty wand core.

 _By the might of magic I call to the forces around me._

 _Hear your chosen son's plea, Mother Magic_

Harry turned to face the basilisk eye stalk.

 _Terra, lapis, fudnus_

 _Earth that grounds and supports, heed my summons_

 _I am Harry James, Divine Lord Potter-Peverell!_

 _I stand strong against your might, but seek succor in completing my Fate_

As he finished his call to Earth itself, the eye stalk was enveloped in the blue-white of his magic and Harry continued, turning to face the feather.

 _Ignis, flamma, incendium_

 _Fire that burns and energizes, heed my summons_

 _I am the living Incarnate of the Lost God!_

 _I stand fast in the face of your inferno, but seek energy and power to fulfill my destiny_

Finishing the second part of the ritual, Harry's magic spread from the eye stalk to the feather with a hum of power. Harry turned towards the Nocturnal Thestral hair.

 _Caeli, aether, ventus_

 _Air that moves and travels, heed my summons_

 _I am the Champion of Fate!_

 _I stand steady amidst your galls, but seek speed and direction to defeat my enemies_

Watching his magic continue counter-clockwise around the circle, Harry turned to the last of the objects he had brought into the circle, the vial of venom from the first acromantula.

 _Aqua, mare, unda_

 _Water that gives life and brings death, heed my summons_

 _I am the Wizard of Winter!  
I stand firm in your waves against your torrents, but seek control of life and death to survive my ordeals_

As his magic spread towards the vial of venom, Harry turned to face forward, towards the summoned bowl. Reaching out, he poured his magic into the bowl, coalescing a ball of pure blue-white energy into the waiting granite.

 _Magicae, essentia, imperium_

 _Magic that claimed me and gives rise to my might, heed my summons_

 _I am your Childe of Magic!_

 _I stand willingly alongside you, but seek your hand to help in all that I do_

At the end of this last summons to the elements, everyone on the island felt a power, the likes of which no single entity could have imagined. The blue-white circle of power closed around Harry, and from the circle rose a wall, perfectly round, made of the same ephemeral magic. Over the roar of power that accompanied the wall's rising, the seven Fates around the circle heard Harry complete his ritual. As he spoke, and unbeknownst to Harry, the Fates joined hands and gave their power to the ritual.

 _Terra, ignis, caeli, aqua, magicae_

 _Earth, fire, air, water, magic_

 _I am Harry James, Divine Lord Potter-Peverell, incarnate of the Lost God, Champion of Fate, Wizard of Winter, Childe of Magic, Issue of Both Courts of Fae, Conqueror of Slytherin!_

 _I call to ye, assembled in this Circle of Circles, in the seat of this Realm_

 _At the heart of a true circle of power, I bid you, come forth. Come forth! COME FORTH!_

Shouting at the end of his summons, Harry gathered what will and magic he had left, and reached into the granite around him, the same granite around which he had walked on his journey with the fates. Reaching for the stone, Harry felt the sheer power it contained - the black coloring the only evidence of how much power the Fates had leaked into the stone over the life of the universe. Harry felt out to the stone, and to his surprise, the stone _sang_ back. Revitalized by the encouragement, Harry gathered his will, now spread throughout the granite, and _pulled_ back, bringing with his might all the power and magic that the Fates had leaked over the eons of existence in this universe. As the power flowed back into him, he reached out towards the empty wand husk in front of him and willed the five elements around him to join the three bound woods. Pouring all his might and effort into the wand husk, Harry almost didn't notice that the surrounding wall of magic was pulled in, too. As the wall of magic collapsed to a single, finite point over the wand husk that laid in front of Harry, a sound was heard throughout the island. To call the sound a boom would be to call a thunderclap the whisper of a gnat. The sound was pervasive, shaking everything on the island and beyond. The sound was, simply put, power in the truest sense of the word.

As Harry came back to his senses, having been knocked senseless by the wave of power, he saw that his ritual circle and every Fate but the twins had disappeared. Left in place, was a single wand laying in front of Harry.

"Take it, dear one," encouraged Fortune. "Your ritual was more successful than we could have ever guessed. That wand is the Wand of Fate, having been blessed by all Seven Fates. It will serve you, and only you until you are not on any known realm forever more. Then, child, you may give it and the blessings it holds to your one of your children, forever more, blessing your line until my mother cuts the very thread of this universe."

"Thank...thank you, Lady Fortune," Harry gasped, still trying to reclaim his breath. "What do you mean, though, all of its blessings? What else happened?"

"Hearing you call to the very elements, and binding them all in control of magic, my mothers and dear sisters were moved to add their power to your circle," Luck explained. "That is why there are not here to see you off. They needs must go recharge, for lack of a better word. But enough," here, Luck interrupted whatever Harry was about to say, no doubt an apology for taking the energy of Fate into his wand. "They did that of their own free will and volition. It was their choice to make. Now, I feel I should warn you, when you pick up your wand, the last of the ritual will be complete and the power will be bound to your and yours forever more. Do you accept such a burden, young wizard?" 

Not daring to respond out loud, for fear he might say something supremely stupid, Harry simply reached out and picked up the wand. All at once, Harry felt a surge of energy - no, energ _ies_ , Harry corrected himself - traveling through his wand and his arm. He knew without being told that he would never be able to lose his wand, even if he tried - it was well and truly bound to him. Waving his new-found wand, Harry sensed the pull of the last energies from the ritual as they came rushing towards his wand. Looking around him, wand still held aloft, Harry watched as the granite path seemed to pull off the ground and fly into his wand, the black coloring of pure energy leaving the hardy stone a shining, brilliant white so bright that it seemed to lack color entirely. Gone was the simple black path that surrounded the island and covered the path. In its place was a shimmering layer of what Harry could only describe as crystallized purity. It was then that Harry understood how a simple stone was able to absorb so much power - it was, after all, the essence of physical perfection itself.

Harry thought when he found his Holly wand that he was amazed. Now, he was simply beside himself. "I love magic" he said, not meaning for his thoughts to be vocalized.

"As it should be," responded Fortune and Luck together. "Your time here is close to finished, young wizard. Rather, we should say, young warlock. Now that you have the raw elements of creation bound to your magic, there is little else we can teach you here. You will find, when you return, that you are in the same position as when you left. Remember, Sir Prince will take care of the foul dementors." Seeing Harry's grateful nod, seemingly in deference that there was one problem, at least, he would not have to solve himself, Luck continued by herself, "You should also know that the Knight of Winter" by this point, Harry had a feeling that he should know who the Knight was, but he couldn't think of it, to his frustration, "And Summer's Seer" Harry's thoughts leapt unbidden to Luna Lovegood once more, "are both on your side, no matter what you might have thought in the past. You should also remember that the Queen's emissaries, those you call the goblins, will help you if you aid them in return. As all creatures bound with the fae, they live in balance and their word is final… if you can get them to give a final word, at any rate. Your godfather will be safe in the care of the Knight. Do you have any final questions?"

Thinking as hard as he could manage after everything that had happened, Harry shook his head. "No, Ladies Fortune and Luck. I trust I shall see you again?"

"Sooner than you know, warlock mine," responded Fortune. "You know your way back. Use it." With this last instruction, Fortune and Luck held hands and spun together and disappeared, briefly reminding Harry of another person he knew, if only he could think of who it was. Walking towards the door of the lighthouse, Harry tapped a specific stone around the door - three up, two across - and watched as the door shimmered and a hole appeared where the door once was. Taking a breath, Harry braced himself and stepped through the portal -

\- Only to find his breath taken away by the fierce cold he had come to expect from dementors. Without pausing to think, Harry raised his new wand and thought of the strongest sense of love he could. Oddly enough, it was a combination from hearing the Fates reassure him that Sirius, who was still laying at Harry's feet mumbling incoherently, would be okay, and the sense of pride and duty he felt when he first said his full title. Sans pause to think through what he was about to do, Harry gathered all of this positive energy and cried out, **EXPECTO PATRONUM**! From his wand burst a massive golden phoenix, its wingspan nearly half the width of the lake.

"Bloody hell", muttered Harry to himself. "That's definitely one way to get rid of them." Looking around, Harry saw every dementor that the golden patronus touched bursting into flame and dissolving into the air, leaving its evil brethren to turn tail and run away.

"Well done, Mr. Potter. It seems you may not have been the dunderhead I once thought you were, if you are able to wield a Fate-forged wand so carefreely." A nasal-toned, all-to-familiar voice came from behind Harry. Turning slowly, dreading what he was about to see, Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts. In his hands, he held a greatsword that shone with cold reflected moonlight, the hilt in the form of a foot-wide snowflake.

"It… you… sword… them… Knight!" Harry stammered, unable to give voice to the many emotions going through his mind as he connected his most hated professor's face to that of the Knight who was supposed to help him.

"As astute as ever" quipped Snape, "I am Severus Tobias Snape, Knight of Winter and Sworn Deputy of Her Eminence Queen Mab of the Winter Court against all forces from beyond the Outer Gates. And you, Mr. Potter, are her Warlock."

"Oh, bloody hell" was all Harry managed in response before he turned and passed out, unconscious.

 **A/N3:** Joe Lawyer, thank you for your in-depth and thoughtful review! The next chapter will be squarely back in the HP-verse, not to worry. As for the text and word count, the disclaimers et al. in the intro to each chapter is ~350 words, so just take that off of the published count! Hopefully, each chapter from here on out will be about this length or longer.

To the guest who left a review on Chapter 1, I have no clue what in the bloody hell you're saying. I think you're insinuating I'm on cocaine, in which case, I'd gladly tell you I'm not… but please take your fedora out of your mouth before trying the hyperbolic word play/*actions* thing again. Thanks!

 **A/N4 - Important!:** A very dear family member is graduating from college this week (ROCK CHALK!), so my next update will be delayed. Expect it before 18 May, though! As always, please read, favorite, follow, and review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	7. Healing Hands?

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

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 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

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Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 7: Healing Hands?

 _ **Previously:**_ _"As astute as ever" quipped Snape, "I am Severus Tobias Snape, Knight of Winter and Sworn Deputy of Her Eminence Queen Mab of the Winter Court against all forces from beyond the Outer Gates. And you, Mr. Potter, are her Warlock."_

Harry gasped, waking up with a start. Where was he? Why was it so dark? All he could remember was visiting Ladies Luck and Fortune, then stepping back through the portal. What happened after? Harry struggled to remember. Looking around himself, Harry found himself in an all-too-familiar place: the hospital wing. Noticing the low candles, Harry rightly figured that it was sometime in the night - hence the darkness. As he looked around, Harry saw someone had conjured an armchair to his right… could it be? Sirius Black was actually there, with him! Harry was overjoyed at seeing his godfather, to the point of almost crying. Taking a moment to continue looking around and recenter his emotions, Harry let out a veritable shout when he saw who was in a conjured chair to his left. He suddenly remembered what had happened when he came back through the portal. Realizing he had no idea what to do next, Harry could only thing to repeat himself, not bothering to be quiet: "Oh bloody HELL".

"As I said last week, Potter: you remain as astute as always" came the low, snarky drawl from the seat on Harry's left.

"Snape, I didn't think you would waste your time on dunderheads in the hospital wing…?" Harry asked, hoping that the potion professor's snark (as opposed to billowing rage, Harry figured), indicated that the man was in a mood to answer questions.

"Unfortunately, you are actually correct." As the professor replied, Harry noticed his godfather was also waking up in his chair, and unconsciously reached out for him, finding a soft warm hand in his in response. "Due to my charge from _Her_ ," the tone of voice somehow conveyed to Harry exactly which queen of Faerie Snap was referring to, "I know more or less what happened while your soul was in the Realm of the Fates. It fell to me, then, to secure your person and that of your godfather's back in safety." As he continued, the Winter Knight's voice took on a hard edge as he glanced at Sirius Black across Harry. "Know that if it were only up to me, you and the mongrel would both have been left soulless husks adrift in the lake. Unfortunately, as I said, you somehow managed to not only secure for yourself a Fate-Forged wand, but also won from the forces of creation a title that has not been seen in this universe's permutation - ever. I was bound to help you and yours, as I remain now and until you ascend from this plane for good."

"I… I'm not quite sure I understand, sir. Which title? I was given seven of them… and you're saying only one matters?"

"If you were listening, Potter, I said that there was only one that was novel to you, never before seen or bestowed in all of creation as we know it. The other six are important - they were given to you by the forces of creation and fates themselves. There has, in all of ever, never existed a Divine Warlock to the Winter Court before."

"I… I'm not sure what to say," Harry began.

"It's like this, pup." Sirius began speaking for the first time since Harry woke up, still holding his hand on the bed. "Your other titles, yes, Severus filled me in," Harry coughed in shock that his godfather was referencing the professor so respectfully. "I'll fill you in on that in a moment," Sirius responded to Harry's shock. "In any case, your other titles are important, but they've all been done before. Granted, never more than one at a time, and absolutely never sevenfold before, but they have been done. We know what they are, who and what they represent. But a Divine Warlock is new entirely, and that's why you're under protection right now by Sir Prince - that's his true title, by the way. You need to choose how people will refer to you, come to think of it."

"I'm not… can't people just call me Harry?" The wizard was very confused. "Also, what's the difference… I thought the prophecy said a Wizard of Winter, not a Warlock?"

"No, you ignorant brat, you cannot have everyone across the realms use your given name. Do you honestly know so little about the way of the world?" Snape began in his signature exasperated teaching voice that Harry was coming to appreciate as the dour man's version of resigned fondness. "Your name that you give to people to use is a showing of both _who_ you are, and _what_ you represent. Your given name shows neither of those things. So who are you - obviously you don't need to use your full title for everyone, not even _you_ could be that obnoxious all the time." The professor finished with a grimace at the thought of having to call Harry by his seven termed title every time they spoke.

By some saving grace, Harry thought, Madame Pomfrey, school matron, chose that moment to appear. Harry thought he recognized something different about the healer and how she spun when she approached the trio, but could not figure out what it was at first.

"Mr. Potter," the healer began, evidently unperturbed by the two men on either side of her patient, or the fact that both had drawn their wands when she startled them with her appearance. "I dare say, you have the most interesting maladies. You are perhaps the second patient I've ever seen to so completely wipe out your magic reserves. What could you have possibly done to use so much magic at once that it landed you in a week-long coma?"

"Well, Madame Pomfrey," Harry was understandably sheepish as he responded to the matron. "It really was only one spell that did it."

"Hmph. That's no small feat. What did you try to do? Raise a volcano like that seventh year last year? Summon the squid to the prefect's bath? I swear I thought the headmaster fixed the wards against that this year." The healer bustled around Harry as she guessed, poking and prodding with her wand and causing a floating quill and parchment next to her to begin scribbling ferociously.

"Well, not exactly… it was a patronus. The biggest patronus I've ever cast, actually." Harry told the healer, focusing more on the quill as it floated and wrote and feeling like telling the three adults that he had made his own ritual that drained the power of all seven fates in another Realm of existence would not go over very well, even if two of them knew about his recent adventure.

"Well then it had better have been worth it. What that fool was thinking, placing those demons around a school full of children, I couldn't say. Hold STILL!" Harry, by this point, hearing that it was simply magical exhaustion that kept him in bed, was trying to leave. "You aren't going anywhere until I know your magic is back at high enough levels to sustain you over the summer. Now stay still and drink this so I can scan your core. The potion will help you push your magic when it's this low. Just aim your wand at the crystal on the wall and let the potion work - the size and color of the magic in it will show us how much you have left."

Complying with the pushy matron, Harry sat back down on the bed and thought about where he had placed his wand, momentarily surprised when it materialized in his hand. He had forgotten that the wand had been so thoroughly bound to him in the Fate's ceremony. Drinking the potion, Harry felt the now-familiar sensation of his magic rising within him, similar to when he had evoked the elements. Pointing his wand in front of him, Harry _pushed_ and was, frankly, stunned when he felt his wand actually amplifying his power as his magic rushed through, combining with the elements in the trio of woods in his wand. As he pushed, Harry heard Madame Pomfrey explaining to a very interested Snape and Sirius that they should expect to see a ball of magic emerge from his wand, and hit the crystal on the wall, where the resulting depth and color of shading in the crystal would show how full his magical core was. It was to his surprise, then, when instead of a single ball of magic, a _beam_ of golden-colored light, lasting for an entire second, struck the middle of the crystal with a resounding tone.

"Mr. Potter, I…. I'm not quite sure what to say. I've never seen that happen." the school matron was fretting at the display of magic, momentarily forgetting to look at the crystal.

"Poppy, I promise … Mister… Potter is quite alright, judging by that display." Snape stumbled over Harry's title, clearly unsure about what to use since he had not yet answered that question. "Of your crystal, however, I am much less certain."

With a small intake of breath that belied her surprise at having forgotten the crystal on the wall, Madame Pomfrey turned to see the crystal pulsing with a strong, gold light. The reflections inside the crystal of the gold light seemed to shimmer in every color of the rainbow. " _ **Mr. Potter**_ ," the healer began sharply after seeing the crystal, "Just when, exactly, were you going to mention that sometime between casting away _the entirety_ of the dementor horde and saving your godfather, you became a divine warlock?"

After getting a promise from the matron that she wouldn't tell the headmaster about what he was going to tell her, Harry related to Madame Pomfrey everything that had happened that night, a week prior - with some help from Professor Snape to fill in the gaps. During this conversation, he also learned that his godfather and Snape had been friends in secret throughout their childhoods at Hogwarts, but due to the steep social stigmas associated with a Gryffindor/Slytherin friendship, the two men could never have publicized their friendship and eventually let it fall by the wayside. It was because of this past friendship, Harry learned, that Snape was able to be so certain that Sirius was in fact innocent, and not a threat to Harry.

"We will have to add a visit to the Ministry of Magic, then, after we see the goblins this summer." Snape told Sirius and Harry. Seeing their sharp looks, he continued, "Oh really. Now that I don't have to hold up that ridiculous mask around you and Harry anymore, did you really think that I was not going to host you both at my summer residence? I _know_ the foul woman you would stay with otherwise, Potter. Just because you are healed completely now, does not mean that she has become innocent."

Harry had the good decency to look ashamed at still thinking ill of the Winter Knight in front of him. "Thank you all the same, sir. It will be a relief not returning to my Aunt's place." Drinking the cup of tea that Madame Pomfrey had brought over, Harry realized that he had a few more questions for the matron. "Madame Pomfrey," he began, missing a certain glint in her eyes when she was addressed, "What does it mean, though, to be a divine warlock? I thought the divine part was just based on who gave me the title?"

"Not at all," the healer smirked. "The title is, in fact, two separate parts. Warlock refers to the amount of magic that you are able to use at once - how fast magic can flow out of you, and how long you can sustain it. That's the difference between all levels of those with magic - be they squibs, hedgewizards, minor wizards, wizards, master wizards, magus, grand magus, warlocks, or master warlocks." Seeing Harry nod in understanding, Madame Pomfrey continued. "There is no official measurement, so to speak, but the ranks are determined by acts of magic that you are capable of. I dare say that your _improvised five-tiered, master rank binding ritual_ qualifies you for the rank, seeing as you didn't _permanently burn out your magic_ , after all." The matron's disapproving tone was evident in her frank maternal sarcasm. Harry truly had not realized how significant the ritual was, and told the adults as such.

"Harry, pup…" Sirius began, even more worried in retrospect now that he knew Harry had no idea what he was doing. "The reason rituals have gone out of favor is that when they fail, your magic can fail with it - forever. For any large scale ritual, if the magic isn't enough to satisfy the forces you are mucking around with, your life and soul go too. Invoking an element for a single tier blessing is one thing, but you invoked all five, for a master level, permanent binding, inside a true circle of power. If even one thing had been off, or you had been just a _smidge_ less powerful or less in control, your magic and life essence would have ceased to exist altogether."

"That's … a bit intimidating, in hindsight," Harry admitted. "So if you don't mind me asking, how do you know what ranking you are? And how does Sorcerer as a title play into all of this?" Harry was thinking back to the headmaster, who often introduced himself as a Grand Sorcerer.

"If I may?" Snape asked Sirius, feeling that he might have an idea of where Harry was going with his questioning. After seeing Sirius wave his permission, grateful for the chance to drink his own tea after a refill from the ever-maternal matron, he responded. "Those are two vastly different questions, and one will answer your question about your Divine title as well. The rankings of well-known wizards and their accompanying acts are held in public record by the ICW, the international governing body for wizards. Most people who are interested in their rank compare their most strenuous magical effort to the published list, and see where they compare. They then award themselves the corresponding title. For the higher three ranks, though - Grand Mage, Warlock, and Master Warlock, the ICW holds a tribunal every year in a special court where representatives of each magical government judge and rank anyone who wants to attain such a rank. I hope, Potter, that it is apparent that you need to go through with this tribunal. Anyone with one of the three high ranks is given a lot of political clout in any magical government." Having resigned himself to the fact that he would have to, at some point, be involved in politics as the Lord of two Most Ancient and Most Nobel houses (the House of Potter having received the Most Nobel accolade after Harry survived Voldemort the first time as an infant), simply nodded his head and looked at the professor to continue.

"As for sorcery, as vile as it may be, it is inherently the opposite of your divine status. Do you know where your magic actually comes from?" Seeing Harry (and Sirius, Snape noted with a smirk) shake his head, Snape gestured with his wand, drawing diagrams to accompany his explanation. "In most people - who the Fates and the Fae courts refer to as mortal = it is an internal process. You eat, you breathe, your heart beats, and you make your own magic. That is why mortals feel more refreshed after eating a hearty meal and sleeping - it is the body's way of rebuilding and refreshing magic. Do you understand so far?" Seeing Harry, Sirius, and even Madame Pomfrey nod, Snape readjusted himself and continued. "Divines, on the other hand, draw their magical energy directly from the element that they are related to."

"So I get my magic...from Lady Magic herself?" Harry asked, thinking that his _Childe of Magic_ title finally made sense.

"In part, yes. As the Lady's named Childe, your primary element is Magic. However, do you remember how you worded your summons to the other four base elements? When you named them and asked them to aid you, then actually forced them to be summoned in that circle, you tied yourself to all four elements. Your magic is pure, as it has been with every Childe of Magic, but can also contain forces from the other elements. I imagine, if you focused, you could force your magic to be solely from one element or another. Try to match mine."

With a flourish, Snape pointed his wand at the crystal on the wall and called out, **Magicae Incarnatus!** A large ball magic, mostly royal blue with streaks of sea-foam green, soared from Snape's wand to the crystal, filling it with a similar color. "Think of water, in every form - ice, steam, rivers, oceans - and add to it the earth that surrounds it - the ground of the permafrost, the river banks, the sand at the edge of the sea. Point and cast, thinking of just water and earth."

Following the professor's instructions, Harry repeated his flourishing motion and tentatively cast the spell. To Harry's surprise, the resulting beam, again lasting for a full second, had the exact colors that Snape's ball of magic did.

"As I thought," the professor continued. "Your native magic is a balance of all five elements, hence the gold color - representing a Childe of Magic - with every color around it - the other elements acting in harmony together. Every magic user has a native attunement to one or more element, but only the Divine can draw their strength directly from them. Since you draw strength from all five elements, your strength is, in theory, unparalleled." Ignoring Harry's loud gulp at that proclamation, Snape turned to Sirius. "Black, since your family is rather well known for its particular brand of magic, perhaps you want to address what sorcery is, and why the illustrious headmaster insists on calling himself one?"

"I suppose I deserve that derision," the animagus began. "Like divinity gets its strength from the elements, sorcery gets its strength from other beings." Seeing Harry's apprehensive look, Sirius gave a grim nod. "It's exactly like that. Technically, you can draw on your own physical strength for sorcery, in which case you essentially double the amount of magic you can use for anything, but at a steep recovery cost. Alternatively, and what my dearest, deranged mother was known for, you can draw the energy from any other being. She chose her house elves. In theory this is a free pass, to use as much magic on anything that you want, but it comes at a cost - to control the other beings she drew magic from for so long, my mother lost control of her own mind. She, and the poor elvesthat she drew from, all went around the bend years before I was ever born."

"So Dumbledore has...what? An army of deranged pygmy puffs hidden away somewhere that he draws from?" Harry asked, incredulous that the headmaster could enslave other beings for his own power, even after learning about his unquenchable thirst for power from the Fates.

"Not...exactly," Madame Pomfrey started, having understood exactly what Sirius left unsaid and what Snape evidently already knew, judging by the sigh and side-eye glare he sent her way. "There are magical creatures, who are technically born from magic itself, that can also be drawn from. Up until the headmaster, no one had figured out how this would work, though."

Understanding dawned on Harry. "Fawkes," he breathed.

"Quite right. The discovery of how to bind and draw strength from a phoenix is the reason the headmaster calls himself a Grand Sorcerer. He is careful to only do so inside the British Isles, though, where he has managed a masterful PR campaign through his 'Kindly Headmaster' act for so long that people on the isles have come to associate Sorcery as a good thing, despite the fact that he is a only mage, perhaps a grand mage at best. He pulls enough power fast enough from poor Fawkes, and he can fake any amount of innate power that he wants, tricking everyone into thinking he's more powerful than anyone else." The school matron finished her explanation with a disgusted look on her face.

"The poor thing," Harry commiserated, relating the treatment of the phoenix to the slave labor he had been forced to endure under the Dursleys.

"Pup, there's one more thing you should know," Sirius started when he realized the, unsure of how to proceed. "I know you haven't had the best relationship with him in the past, but I need to stay with Severus this summer. Since he has the blessings and knighthood of Queen Mab," an unseasonably cold wind blew threw the hospital wing, causing the mentioned potions professor to shift uncomfortably, "he's one of the only ones who can keep me safe this summer, away from the Ministry. I'm still a wanted man, so at least until I get my trial, I can't be seen in public. I wish I could spend the summer with you -"

"You can." Snape said, his face contorting as he said it, as if he had to swallow a particularly unpleasant food.

"What?" Sirius and Harry said at once.

"I am, after all, the Knight of Winter, sworn to uphold the Queen of Winter and her designated allied. I dare say, that her Warlock and his protected would qualify. I, Severus Snape, open my house and home to you and yours, Harry Potter, for so long as our service may last in mutual peace."

"In the spirit it was offered, I, Harry Potter, accept and welcome your aid, Severus Snape. In the spirit of mutual collaboration, may peace blessed be."

"May peace blessed be" Snape responded, a dull flash of magic sealing the ritual that granted his wards' protections and recognitions to Harry and Sirius.

What Snape didn't realize, at least not yet, was that due to his wording, he didn't just grant sanctuary at his home wards; he granted Harry and Sirius protection under any one of and every one of his wards - including those he helped to place over a certain manor house in the English countryside.

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 **A/N3:** Whoaaaaa boy this chapter took way too long, and I really can't do anything as an author except to apologize. To everyone who reached out, thank you! My sister's graduation was _fantastic_! I couldn't be more proud of her! As always, please read, share, favorite, follow, and review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	8. Fawkes' Freedom

_**A Wizard Shall Fall**_

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

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 **Plot:** When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

 **A/N1:** So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

 **A/N2** : I have this series planned for at least 5 books, each with an unknown amount of chapters (probably 20-40 each, but we'll see). If you have anything you want to see added in, let me know! No pairing is final, and none are set in stone.

 **Dedication:** This series is dedicated to DZ2 and Sinyk, both of whom have written some truly fantastic stories that helped me through some less-than-happy times, and gave a lot of inspirations to this series. Also to my wonderful fiancé who has put up with my nonsense for 5 years now… and our wonderful dog. See if you can find him referenced in [almost] every chapter!

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Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 8: Fawkes' Freedom

 _Previously: "I am, after all, the Knight of Winter, sworn to uphold the Queen of Winter and her designated allied. I dare say, that her Warlock and his protected would qualify. I, Severus Snape, open my house and home to you and yours, Harry Potter, for so long as our service may last in mutual peace."_

"You'll remember to keep on guard, Potter?" For anyone who hadn't been in the hospital wing over the last week, the familiarity with which Professor Snape addressed Harry would have been stunning. When Harry stopped to think about it, it still was. They were discussing how careful Harry needed to be at the closing feast later that evening - both professor and student found it highly suspicious that Dumbledore had not paid visit to Harry the entire week he had been in the infirmary.

"Yes sir. I'll have my guardian with me, too." At this, Sirius, who was in his Grimm form napping on Harry's lap, lifted his head and twitched his ears. "Sorry Padfoot, not you" Harry said with a laugh. Over the last week, Sirius and Snape had with him almost continuously (as much as Snape could around his classes, at least), and Harry had connected with both over stories of his parents and their friends. He had learned about all four marauders and their animagus or werewolf forms, and (much to the potion master's chagrin) the pranks that they played on everyone. Turning back to Snape, Harry continued, "Right before we leave, I'll cast the spell for him in my occlumency headspace. If Dumbledore tries anything, I think I'll notice." Harry was apprehensive about the feast as a whole. Snape had spent the last week, in addition to telling Harry about himself and the two getting more comfortable around each other, In that time, Snape had told him about Dumbledore's prolific use of legilimency against students, and how he had been complicit at the headmaster's request.

Soon, it was approaching time for Harry and Snape to leave for the feast (with a quick detour from Snape letting Sirius out the humpback witch's statue). Sirius, still in his dog form, began to growl with unease. "Relax, Padfoot. I'm uneasy too, but we can't let you be heard. Now go - I'll see you tomorrow at Spinner's End. Travel safe boy, okay?" With this loving admonishment from Harry and a final lick, Sirius and Snape left the hospital wing while Harry headed towards the Great Hall. Moving through the venerated halls of Hogwarts, Harry noticed that most things looked more… alive than they ever had before. The portraits that moved and talked seemed to glow, the moving stairways almost shined, and if he held his hand on the walls, Harry could have sworn that he could feel a low humming pulsing through the entire school. As he descended the stairs and got closer to the main hall, the lifelike signs of the castle soon gave way to the noises of the hustle and bustle that accompanies any large gathering of schoolchildren. Before he realized where he was, having taken the time on his way down to set his mental barriers, he stood at the doors of the Great Hall. With a breath, and a quick prayer to the fates, Harry took hold of the doors, and pushed.

As the ornate door opened, a hush began to fall throughout the hall. As the silence moved towards the head table, working its way up the four house tables, heads began to turn, still silent, and all curious. Even the professors, at their table on the dias, ceased their conversation to look at Harry. Seeing all attention on him, and feeling very warm all of the sudden, Harry began to walk towards the Gryffindor table, intent on sitting next to his housemates and getting out of the feast with as little attention as possible. Unfortunately for him, the Lady Fates had a sense of humor.

"He lives!" came an all-too-familiar voice from the Gryffindor table. As Harry looked, he saw his best friend, Ron Weasley, standing and laughing at his misery. At his shout, their housemates began to clap, louder and louder, until the entire table was on their feet and cheering for their housemate. When Harry began to move again, thinking that the ovation would die down, he was startled when the _other_ tables began to cheer. At first it was Hufflepuff, with cries of "Dementor Slayer" and "School Saviour". Ravenclaw soon joined in the raucous, and Harry could hear the eagles asking each other how he managed to summon a patronus so big. Harry was curious at first how everyone knew, until he overheard one voice mention that the golden phoenix had flown over the school before disappearing. With a groan, Harry realized that the entire school undoubtedly knew he was the source of the end-of-year magical mishap… again. He was surprised to note, though, that even a section of the Slytherins were giving him an ovation - though obviously not shouting and losing their precious decorum, Harry thought with a smirk.

Finally making his way over to his seat by Ron, Harry finally managed to sit down, ending the interruption to the feast. "Ahh, yes, welcome back, my boy," Dumbledore said. "As I was saying before that interruption," _Those damn twinkling eyes_ , Harry thought as he saw the trick the Headmaster used to make everyone think he was joking, "We find ourselves again at the end of another year. It seems to me that there is a certain trophy left to be awarded. In fourth place, with 175 points, Hufflepuff." Light applause followed - no one really thought the badgers would win anything this year. "For a third place finish in Quidditch, they receive an additional 25 points! Next, with 225 points, and remaining in third place, is Ravenclaw! 10 extra points are given for a fourth-place Quidditch finish. Before the rest of the scores are given out," Dumbledore paused to take a drink, seemingly unaware of the glares he was getting from both Gryffindor and Slytherin, who had been neck-and-neck all year. "I feel that it might be more helpful to settle the Quidditch scores first! In second place, with an additional 50 points, is… Slytherin!" Whatever else Dumbledore had planned to say was lost in the ensuing cacophony. The 100 points that a Quidditch win gave Gryffindor was clearly enough to win them the house cup, something that both tables caught on to immediately. Cheers and hats went flying from the lions, while the snakes - and their head of house, Harry noted with a laugh - were shouting derisions and complaints to the headmaster.

As the noise quieted back down, and as Dumbledore let the feast begin, Harry started talking with those around him. He had somewhat-filled in Ron on what happened over the last week (leaving out the Fates, at least for now), as he had stopped by the hospital wing when he could. "Harry!" a harridan voice cried out from further down the table. "Just what were you thinking, casting magic like that? It's so irresponsible, you know the headmaster said we had to leave the dementors alone. And what did you do to yourself? You look different now. Were you messing around with more magics than just whatever illusion you used on the dementors? You have to let me help you, I can -"

"Stop right there, Granger." Harry's voice was low and strong, a drastic change from the friendly conversation he was just having with Ron. "One: I don't recall you ever bothering to come see me in recovery, so how dare you presume to care. Two: I would much rather have used ANY magic than had my soul sucked by the foul beasts that the headmaster wrongly placed there."

"Harry, don't say that about him! I'm sure the headmaster knows what he was doing, you just need to stop meddling with everything"

"THREE," Harry continued, talking over her, "I don't see you objecting to 'messing around with' magics beyond your control when you've been using a highly illegal and restricted artifact all year, one which you would know the headmaster did not have the authority to give you if you bothered to look beyond the end of your nose. And four, most importantly, I will never let you help me again. You worship the ground any authority walks on and refuse to think for yourself. Sure, you can recite whatever your precious books say, but can you actually put together a coherent thought on your own, or follow directions about how long essays should be? I thought not. You are, quite simply Granger, a mooching louse of a minor witch who refuses to look beyond her own prejudices. Get this through your skull, woman: the magical world is not the muggle world. Unless you realize that, you'll be trapped in your own pitiful uselessness forever."

"Harry, are you feeling well? I think you need to go back to Madame Pomfrey, you're not acting right at all. Why don't we get you up there?" As she continued to ignore what Harry was saying, she walked over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder to pull him off the bench. Before she realized what was happening, Harry had grabbed her wrist on his shoulder, twisted his torso, and let her fall to the floor. "Like I said, Granger - pitiful". In a huff, the muggleborn witch in question stormed out the doors of the Great Hall. "What was that about, mate?" Ron asked, curious as to what just happened.

"Did it ever strike you as funny, Ron, that Hermione didn't bother to come see me at all when she literally could turn back time to make as much free time as she wanted?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah, I guess" Ron replied, uneasy at how his former-friend had ignored Harry.

"Apparently Dumbledore had told her that I needed to be 'left alone' and she took it at face-value" Harry told Ron, repeating the answer that Snape had given him when he asked the same. "She'll do anything the old man says without a second question, even if it means dumping her friends at the first sign of trouble or inconvenience. I don't need her around me if that's how little I mean to her."

"She was right about one thing, though." Ron said in between bites. "You did change."

"Of course I did!" Harry replied with a smirk. He was about to continue saying that anyone would have if they found out they had seven titles, when he was interrupted by a searing pain … in the middle of his forehead.

"Oh no, not again, not here, not now" Harry muttered, resting his head in his hands to try to relieve the pain. "He's gone, they took it out, it's not there anymore!"

"Er… mate? You alright there?" Ron had a flashback to Harry's coming-out as parseltongue last year. "You aren't hearing anything, are you?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Harry said, raising his head to answer his friend. As he did, he glanced up at the head table and looked straight into a twinkling pair of blue eyes in return. As soon as he made eye contact with the headmaster, he felt himself slipping into his occlumency space. Having designed his mind-space as a palace of sorts, Harry found himself in his throne room, with his guardian in front of him. Having summoned him before he walked in the Great Hall, Harry approached the creature - the very same one that his patronus took, a giant golden phoenix. "What's going on, buddy?" Harry asked it, feeling more at ease to still have his guardian. With a musical cry, the golden phoenix answered in return, conveying feelings of anger and protection when Harry thought back to the headmaster and comfort and security towards Harry himself. Harry thought he understood. "It's Dumbledore, isn't it? He's trying to get into my head?" The golden phoenix bobbed its head in affirmation. "Well, then, you know what we have to do…" Pulling out his wand, Harry sketched a quick pentagram on the door to his throne room, charging it with his magic. Forcing himself back to consciousness, Harry locked eyes once more with Professor Dumbledore, who was still trying to send a legilimency probe at Harry. The old wizard had a small grimace, almost as if he were confused at why he couldn't see anything in Harry's mind but a raised drawbridge and closed portcullis. Reaching back into his mindscape, Harry placed his metaphysical effort towards the pentagram, and without breaking eye contact with Dumbledore, whispered under his breath, " _ **libertas totalum**_ ". It was the spell Snape had taught him to free his mind from outside influences, and in practice, it had pushed Snape out of Harry's mind without throwing either across the room - ideal, they thought, for avoiding a scene in the Great Hall.

Unlike in practice, though, as soon as Harry completed the spell, he felt a great strain, like his magic was pushing against an immovable wall. Figuring that Dumbledore had begun to draw from Fawkes in order to break through his occlumency, Harry reached towards his own core, where he could feel his divine-level connection to magic. With a gulp, as he had not yet accessed that connection before, Harry reached towards the source he felt and _pulled_ , forcing the magic from the source through him, to his metaphysical effort. As he did, he felt alive. All of his strain disappeared, and he felt lighter than air. In the middle of the source of magic, he felt like he was invincible. Invincible, of course, until there was a blinding flash of light that startled him out of concentration and ended the spell's effects.

Blinking his eyes rapidly and looking around, Harry noticed three things immediately. One - he was, once again, the center of attention for a completely silent Great Hall. Two - the headmaster was obviously affected by the flash more so than he was, as the older wizard's beard was singed and smoking around the edges, with his glasses bent askew and hanging off one ear. And three - there was a baby golden phoenix. On his shoulder. Singing. Loudly. Perhaps, he considered, number one wasn't completely true. He and _his newly found phoenix_ \- where the bloody hell did that come from? - shared the spotlight.

As the last of his confusion faded, and his senses returned to him, Harry heard the phoenix song for the first time. Only this time, Harry thought, it didn't sound like a normal song… it almost sounded like words. Straining, and unconsciously reaching out with his magic, Harry felt like a light had been turned on. "Thank you, dear one! I'm finally free from that overgrown hedge-stuffed thrice-damned Merlin-cursed son-of-a-pygmy-puff goat-humping stick of lard with legs!" The phoenix, still in it's baby form with an adorably high-pitched and squeaky voice, was singing its praises of Harry while doing an admirable job of cursing out the headmaster.

"Fawkes? Is that you?" Harry had a feeling he wasn't going to like any of the fallout if it really was the headmaster's bound phoenix who he had freed.

"Bah!" The bird spoke/sang to him. "That's only the name the buffoon gave me. My True Name," Harry could feel the capital letters on that introduction, and thought back to what the fates had mentioned about True Names having power, "Is ineffable with your mortal vocal cords. But you can call me Chaos."

"So you're telling me that you're not The Chaos, but you're also not _not_ him?" Harry was trying to figure out the origins of his newfound friend. Having survived the rest of the feast without major incident, the flash being blamed on Chaos and "a phoenix's love of practical jokes" by Dumbledore, Harry and Chaos now found themselves in the Owlery, being watched by a hyper-observant Hedwig.

"Basically, yep! He's not really me, and I'm not really him, but I'm also his essence, and he's a form of mine, so we're kind of the same!" Chaos chirped, in an obnoxiously chipper tone. As he was talking to Harry, he was flying around the Owlery, seeing how close he could get to Hedwig before she tried to bite at him. The record, so far, was about three feet - his tail feather still hurt after that.

"Oooookay. So I'm just going to write that up as something that will hopefully never make sense to me, and pretend that everything's fine about it. Also, would you _please_ stop antagonizing Hedwig? She's going to nab another of your feathers soon." Harry had resigned himself to playing referee between the two as soon as he first saw them going after each other.

"But she so much fuuuun!" Chaos wined. "But fine. I can be serious. For a minute. Kind of." As he was proclaiming his seriousness, Chaos was flinging himself around an abandoned owl perch, swinging in faster and faster circles. "After I grow tonight, I'll be back to my full size. Also, since all phoenixes are made of magic, and you are a divine of magic, I should be able to give my strength to you and vice-versa. I think. The fates weren't to clear when they briefed me on that."

"Wait. Hold on. You actually spoke to the fates? When? Why? How?" Harry was well and truly confused at this point.

"Yep! What do you think took so long after you started to free me? They loved your ritual, by the way, top marks all the way arouuuuuuuuuuuund!" Chaos, having picked up too much speed, had lost his grip on the bar of the perch and gone flying, straight at Hedwig. With an angry squawk and a few well-placed pecks, Hedwig untangled herself from the energetic young phoenix and landed on Harry's shoulder, digging her talons in as she preened his hair.

"Ow! Hey, that hurts girl! Hey! Fine. Yes, you're my first friend. Yes, he's a rambunctious elder god masquerading as a silly youngling. No, I don't think he's going to eat all your owl treats. No, he probably won't try to steal your hatchling - wait, me? No, he won't steal me" Harry, having separated Hedwig from his shoulder, was having a one-sided conversation with his owl with apparently satisfactory answers, as she flew back up to her perch and settled with a self-satisfied chirp, sending Chaos one last glare as he straightened himself out.

"As entertaining as it would be to give credence to calling you bird-brained, Potter, the carriages are leaving now for the Hogwarts Express and you need to get going if you are to meet me on time at the train station." Snape, who Harry had not noticed watching, said with an amused smirk.

Before Harry could respond, he felt Chaos land on his hand, and in what felt like a flash of heat, he landed in his dormitory. "Seriously, mate!" Harry scolded the bird. "Ask first next time!" Ignoring the indignant reply of the phoenix, Harry set about packing his belongings. As he packed, Harry had a thought. "Say, Chaos, how far can you flame me? Does it matter if I bring anything?" After getting a shrug and a shake of the head from Chaos, who had somehow found a tin of fudge and was gorging himself on the treat, Harry wrote a quick note to Ron explaining that he'd write over the summer but wasn't going to take the train home so he didn't have to see his relatives (and a quick aside with a few galleons to pay for the fudge that "went missing").

Seeing that he was all packed, and that Chaos had finally stopped eating everything in sight, Harry took up his trunk and looked at Chaos. "Alright there?"

"Perfectttt" groaned the phoenix, rubbing his stomach at the same time.

"Spot on! Let's get moving then. Do you know where Spinner's End is?" Harry asked, intentionally ignoring the groan Chaos let out at having to move.

"Well, you are allowed in the wards there, so I can just follow that key. It's where the smelly cauldron-man lives, right?" Chaos asked, his off-beat humor coming back as he got over his sugar crash.

"Please don't let him hear you call him that. But yes." Harry said, laughing at the mental image of Snape hearing himself get called a smelly cauldron-man. He was too busy laughing, though, to notice that Chaos had begun to fly over to him.

A moment of a twisting, burning sensation later, Harry found himself on his backside, looking up into a distinctly un-amused potion master's face. "Tell me, Potter: does that infernal fire-pidgeon plan on dropping you everywhere, or will you actually be able to land on your feet for once? Further, what happened to _taking the train like you were told to_?" Snape asked, stepping over Harry to glare directly at Chaos, who was singing his avian tail off in laughter at the thought of Harry landing on his backside everywhere.

SQUAWK! "Hey now, gentle with the tail feathers!" Chaos let out, as Harry grabbed a hold of him to take him inside with his trunk, where Snape stood waiting at his door. Taking the opportunity to look around, Harry let out a small breath of surprise. Spinner's End, home to the ever-dour potions master Severus Snape, was _gorgeous_.

To call Spinner's End a mere homestead would be a woeful understatement. As Harry crossed the ward line with only a tingling sensation to warn him, he saw that the mansion sprawled out over acreage, standing proudly in the middle of all the land. The structure itself looked to be four storeys tall, with eight wings arranged in an octagon around a central courtyard that looked big enough to house an entire quidditch pitch. Around the entire first floor ran an enclosed porch, extending the living space to the outdoors. From the hilltop above the house where Harry and Snape stood, Harry could see that the lines of the Romanesque Victorian mansion formed a giant, eight-pointed snowflake in their design. Each storey had wide, open bay windows along every side, through which Harry could see some of the interior of the home. Light colors and billowing drapery were the furthest thing Harry could think of to the dark and dreary dungeons in which he normally thought of Snape. Following the potion master's instructions and setting down his trunk to take a look around, Harry saw that the land around Spinner's End was surrounded by a forest, with a creek running through the land. Harry took a breath and noticed more than anything that the air smelled _clean_. Fresh scents of the pine trees and running water mingled with a lavender field next to the creek's bank. Besides the lavender, Harry noticed rows of sprouting herbs and plants, for potions he correctly guessed. In the distance, Harry thought he could make out a few hippogryphs and a centaur herd playing with each other behind a low-lying line of granite stonework.

"Sir," Harry began, awe in his voice. "This is…"

"Pitiful for a dungeon bat? Unfitting and out of style?" Snape guessed, his snark coming out as he remembered poor receptions of his manor in the past.

"No sir… this is heaven." Snape was struck silent - for the first time, someone who had no reason to be anything but truthful appreciated his house and home. "Thank you, Potter." Snape responded quietly. "Your godfather is inside. Let's get you in an unpacked, then tomorrow, we shall go to the goblin nation and the Ministry. After that," Snape continued, seeing Harry's inquisitive look, "After that, I shall train you to be more befitting your station, I should think. We will see where this summer takes us."

With a bounce in his step, and hopeful for his future for the first time, Harry walked towards the manor house side-by-side with his newly self-appointed mentor. As he heard Chaos grab his trunk and saw bird and trunk fly ahead of him, Harry had a feeling that he might actually have a chance to succeed for the first time since the Fates gave him his destiny.

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 **A/N3** : I hope you all enjoyed! I had planned on this chapter including Gringotts as well, but then Chaos happened (I honestly hadn't planned for him, I had planned out that Fawkes would have been freed then only showed up here-and-there every few chapters). Please read, favorite, follow, and review! Ta-ta ~BJL13


	9. Greedy Goblins?

_A Wizard Shall Fall_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own plotline and characters. And probably not even all of them.

Harry Potter is property in part and whole by the lovely J.K. Rowling, NBCUniversal, and/or Warner Brothers and Warner Brothers Entertainment.

The Inheritance Cycle is property in part and whole by Christopher Paolini, Paolini LLC, and/or Alfred A. Knopf

The Dresden Files is property in part and whole by Jim Butcher, ROC Book, Dable Brothers, and/or Dynamite Entertainment

All recognizable characters and references are properties of their respective owners.

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Plot: When the dementors surround him, Harry cries out to anyone who will listen… But will the entity that hears him be worse than the dementors themselves? Smart!Powerful!Political!Grey!OP!Harry; Helpful!Snape; Controlling!Dumbledore; Harry Potter with elements from Dresden Files, not a complete crossover. Some elements in referenced to Inheritance Cycle.

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A/N1: So this is my first real posting on this site. Read my Author's Bio page for more details, but I welcome any and all feedback! English is not my native language, so let me know if I didn't catch a mistake. I'm also looking for a Beta reader, if anyone is interested!

A/N2: I'm back, y'all! I can't make any guarantees about how frequently I can update, but rest assured - not even an active duty deployment will make me abandon this fic

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Dedication: To those who serve, at home and abroad, for the protection, welfare, and health of all persons. To you, we salute.

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Book 1: The Orbs of Fae  
Chapter 9: Greedy Goblins?

 _Previously: "No sir… this is heaven." Snape was struck silent. "Thank you, Potter." Snape responded quietly. "Your godfather is inside. Let's get you in an unpacked, then tomorrow, we shall go to the goblin nation and the Ministry. After that, we will see where this summer takes us."_

"Sir, with all respect, why do these have to fight so - URGH - tight?" After his Chaotic arrival at Spinner's End yesterday, Harry had spent the evening reconnecting with Sirius and talking with Chaos - with whom, after heavy deliberation and bribery with spicy chocolate fudge, he had reached an accord for better behavior (he hoped so, at least. The bird had a way of twisting words and goofing off at the most opportune times, Harry thought).

"Because, Potter, wizard-folk have no semblance of propriety without discomfort. It is our public bane." Snape was helping Harry into a magically resized set of dress robes, having donned his own verdant green set moments prior. "It would help, though, if you had the cassock on correctly." Snape noted with a smirk. Waving his wand, Snape re-adjusted Harry's backwards vestments and set him to rights. "Now, there is something left for you to do," he mentioned, internally laughing at Harry's sigh of relief when his clothes were turned around. "And this is where things will get … touchy with the goblins. I admit politicking with them is not my strong suit -"

"But it is mine!" Sirius appeared in the doorway of Harry's room with a flourish. "Snape, I assume you were talking about house colors and emblems?" Seeing Snape give a grim nod, Sirius grimaced. "Well, shite. That would be a problem for him, wouldn't it… too heavy handed, and they'll play him like Malfoy [Sirius gave the name its old French pronunciation, _Mal-foi_ ], too plain and he won't get the time of day."

"Wait, what? Who's Malfoi? Why are the goblins going to be so picky?" Harry was getting frustrated at the conversations going over his head. Luckily, Chaos actually was able to give an astute answer, as neither Snape nor Sirius were going to stop their muttered conversation back and forth to give Harry an answer.

"Kid, it's like this. Goblinfolk are sort-of-wyld fae currently tied to the Winter Court. The last of the Winter Queen's Wizards tricked the Erlking, their leader, into a truce, and they're still bitter. You...will not be their friend, at least not at first. Think of the goblinfolk as a court by themselves, but instead of one of the Queens, Lorde Herne - the same Erlking the last Winter Wizard tricked." As Chaos spoke his name, Harry could have sworn he felt a faint rumble somewhere below him, reminding him of students storming through the halls of Hogwarts on the first nice day of spring. "Ooooh," Chaos groaned as Harry looked around, "Names and power, and all that jazz. Oops! My mistake, oh exalted leader of gremlin and goblin!"

"Um, Chaos? Maybe we shouldn't antagonize the Fae King whose realm we're about to willingly walk into? Just a thought there buddy. You know, since not all of us CAN FLAME OUT AT WILL." Harry was even more worked up now.

"Touché, touché. Anyway, so the goblinfolk, as fae, have a relationship with power. They respect it, but also horde it. You've heard tales of goblins and their gold?" Seeing Harry nod, Chaos let out a spinning laugh. "Jokes on them. Gold is just this millenium. You see, what they really horde, and control better than any other race, is _power_. Because of that, they're also the best ones to both bestow your full titles on you officially and explain that weird current change thing with your magic."

"BIRD! What change in my magic?" Harry found himself thinking increasingly of game-bird stew as Chaos kept dropping asides about things he should very much, most definitely know.

"Oh, come on, tell me you noticed your magic changed? It was all bluish-white with the Fates, now it's all gold? That's not just because of what your school matron said. It's more to do with divinity and realms and boundaries, but you'll need to give me waaaay more fudge before I get into that! ANYWAY," Chaos continued, flying above Harry as he made to grab for his tail feathers, no doubt to wrangle him into telling more about his magic, "the problem you'll have is what emblems you wear on your robes. They tell the world - and the goblins - who they're dealing with. You could go with all seven of your titles in one emblem, and come in to their space as a walking god, but that would be usurping their own hospitality. And you never, NEVER, mess with the Fae's hospitality."

Just as Harry thought he was finally making sense of his predicament, Sirius and Snape came out of their discussion. "We think we know what to do," Sirius began. "And Chaos, if this is going to piss off the Erlking, I need you to let me know now, not three seconds before he destroys my essence in his Hall of Trials, okay?" Seeing the bird give what passed for a nod, Sirius and Snape both pointed their wands at Harry's shoulders. **Familiae Imago** , they cast as one. From Sirius's wand came a pitch-black smoke, smelling of sulfur, and, Harry noted, lilies. The scent was not as unbearable as Harry thought it would seem. It settled on his left shoulder in the form of a raven, the inky blackness in stark contrast against the vivid crimson of Harry's robes. From Snape's wand, a similarly putrid green smoke flew into Harry's right shoulder, settling into a verdant oroborus.

"Ooooh I like this!" Chaos chimed in. "Family to the left, protector on the right. Two families, plus his own on his chest. Strong, but not arrogant. Titular only by his name… yes, this might work!"

"I'm so glad you approve" came Snape's groveling sardonicism. "Now, Potter, you need to cast the same spell. It's a simple point-and-cast, but you need to think of everything that your family means to you as you cast it. The amount of power you but behind it should be the same as a _basic_ levitating spell."

Noting Snape's urgency to tone down his power level as he cast, Harry began to think of everything that his family meant to him. Were the Dursleys family? Harry supposed so, but couldn't think of a single happy thought to go with them besides leaving them. But who else was his family? Certainly not Granger, not anymore. Sirius was… he guessed Snape was too, at this point. The Weasleys could be - Ron and the twins definitely were. Harry thought back to his first year, when he looked into the Mirror of Erised. His parents, they were definitely family. Unbidden, his thoughts leapt to his transfiguration and charms professors - they had always supported him, eventually. What about Remus Lupin? Harry still wasn't sure, but since Sirius still counted him as a friend, Harry included him. There was Chaos, too, of course… he didn't think the bird would leave him, at any rate.

"Any time now, Potter" Snape interrupted his musings.

With a sigh and a deep breath, Harry called up the faintest wisp of his magic, and pointed his wand at himself. **Familiae Imago** , he cast quietly, almost whispering the spell. From his wand billowed a brilliant golden cloud. Instead of going straight towards his robes, as Snape and Sirius's spells had, the golden cloud kept expanding, outward, encompassing all three of the others in the room. As it kept building, Harry felt the strain on his magic increase, so he allowed more threads of his power to feed the spell, trying to minimize the size of his magic without succumbing to magical exhaustion. Gradually, the cloud slowed its expansion. With a hollow-sounding _thump_ , the cloud raced back into Harry's robes, settling right above his heart.

"Well. You never do anything the easy way, do you?" Chaos was chortling as he mocked Harry. Taking a look for themselves, with Sirius providing a mirror for Harry, the other three looked to see what Chaos was laughing at.

"Morgana's _tits_ " breathed Sirius.

"At least they won't be able to say that he's above his station" Snape muttered, in agreement with Sirius's take on the situation. Fearing that he had somehow thrown the simple spell awry, Harry steeled himself and looked in the mirror at his chest. Extending from both breasts to the center of his chest, in a magnificent three-fielded crest, was what Harry instantly knew to be the new coat of arms for House Potter.

A stylized "P" rose above the fields in a bold golden thread, sitting on top of a crowned ouroboros curled into an infinity symbol rising up the tail of the letter, with a silver raven sitting on top. Both creatures, Harry noted, had crimson eyes that seemed to follow the viewer at every angle. In the left field, Harry saw snow-covered fields where a doe and stag looked to be playing with each other. The right field saw a spring meadow with a wolf in warm shades of brown and grey. The bottom field showed two wands, one which Harry recognized as his old Holly wand, the other as his new fate-crafted wand, crossed above a field of sky-blue sundered by a crevice of fiery crimson that matched the eyes of the snake and bird. Behind the wands was a six-pointed snowflake, crowned by an orb of pure white, atop which sat a burning phoenix, his wings extended through the whole field. Surrounding the entire crest was a wreathed braid of three silver words woven in between each other, repeating in their endless cycle: _Aequitas - Fatum - Magicae_. "Equality, fate, and magic" Harry translated, fixated on the design adorning his chest.

"This is the revitalization of House Potter, isn't it Chaos?" Sirius asked, his tone living up to his name.

"Indubitably," the bird responded, taking up a mocking accent that reminded Harry of old Sherlock Holmes television specials. "That is yet another thing the goblins… or another force… would be better equipped to inform you of. Remember, when we arrive, that most wizardkind has no idea of the affiliation of the goblins as part of the fae. They have grown used to this, and will not expect us today. Now, grab my tail feathers." Not providing any further information, Chaos looked to ensure that all three were now clothed appropriately and holding tight, and disappeared in a swirl of warmth and light.

* * *

Reappearing in the same light and warmth, Sirius, Harry, and Snape found themselves upright on the steps in front of Gringotts. Chaos was nowhere to be seen, but Harry felt claws perched on his shoulder, and a light feathered pat on his head. Chuckling at the phoenix's antics, Harry took a moment to read the infamous writing in front of him. "More than treasure…" Harry muttered, thoughts not fully coalescing as he read through the poem. Walking in, Harry noticed the two guardians outside the bank, polearms raised at constant attention, and gave them a short bow of respect. Startled, as no one in recent memory had even addressed them, let alone show respect, the two goblins bowed in return - but Harry had already entered the bank. Sirius and Snape, still surprised by their shared charge, repeated the gesture to the guards and followed Harry inside, only to find him already being seen by a teller. As they approached, they heard Harry begin to ask to see an account manager.

"Name?" inquired the goblin, whose badge identified him as Silvertooth.

"Harry James, sir" Harry answered, careful not to make eye contact with the goblin.

"Sir? Now there's a rich one. Which vault 'ya going to, Harry James?" Silvertooth sneered, his distaste evident on his face as he revealed his namesake.

"None, sir. I wish to see my account manager." Harry had an edge to his voice, made harder with Chaos's still invisible claws digging into his shoulder in irritation. Evidently the immortal bird also took offence to the distasteful goblin.

"And what, I'm just supposed to believe that out of nowhere, some new upstart whelp found a way to revitalize a Most Ancient and Most Noble house? Please, pull the other fang."

"I dare say that's enough, Silvertooth. Begone, and wait in my antechamber." A new voice rang across the bank. Resonant and clear, Harry could feel the power that stood behind it. Without having to think, Harry realized who it belonged to. Turning around, and making a half bow, he thanked the newcomer.

"Mine thanks, Lord Herne, for thy timely appearance, lest I would have found your … representation here to have acted in poor stead of the welcome on thy doors." Harry gestured to the infamous poem on the bank's doors, pushing his magic to make the words, "Welcome, stranger" glow ever so slightly.

"Ergh. Welcome, emissary, Warlock, and witness," the Erlking said dryly as he made a half-bow to Snape, Harry, and Sirius. The repetition of age-old rites obviously bore no interest to the fae king. Harry felt Chaos squeeze his shoulder harder in indignation at being ignored. "You're still invisible," Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Chaos flipped his wing into the back of Harry's head in annoyance as he phased back into visibility.

"And welcome to you too, firebird," Herne said in a much warmer tone. Be welcome in mine halls and all that. Now that the damned formalities are done, pray tell what brings three of Winter's own into these halls, accompanied by a true immortal, no less?"

"With respect, mine host, we honestly wished to avail ourselves of the services of the Bank." Harry responded, careful to keep his tone even as to not further the gruff elder goblin, who had become visibly agitated at the use of social niceties and the reminder that he had accepted a host role for everyone in the bank. "If it is more pleasing to you, we would be pleased to go somewhere more private, where certain customs need not be followed as strictly. House Potter, and its allies, are revitalized this day."

"It is true, youngling, that these niceties bore me. Given my debt of allegiance to your Queen, I can see no way of proceeding, though, without recognizing the slight given to you by one of mine own." The Erlking was interrupted by Silvertooth, who had not yet disappeared from the main hall of the bank. "Wait, my lord, lest you ceed too much to these miscreants of Winter." Silvertooth's ever-present sneer was in full force. "They did us all dishonor by masking their immortal's presence, and I simply responded in kind. No wrong was done."

Before the Erlking was able to respond, Harry quickly interrupted, hoping to diffuse the situation and quickly move out of public view. He had already noticed that all eyes in the bank were on his group. Call it the sense that came with being a fate-born Divine Lord, but the way Silvertooth was fingering the daggers on his belt set Harry further on edge. "Erlking, I respond in two points. The first that Chaos is neither of or by me or mine - his decision to accompany me is his alone, and I claim no ownership thereto."

"Damn right," Chaos cried, having flown up to the rafters to watch the scene unfold. "I'm no one's fire-tooting slave anymore!" Chaos had inexplicably taken on an old-style Western accent, and was miming shooting guns with his claws as he flew around.

"SECONDLY," Harry continued, trying not to laugh at the phoenix's antics, "if this Silvertooth would really wish a dispute, then I offer to settle it in your manner of choice. I understand, sir Erlking, that combat is the accepted measure of truth still?"

"Indeed," the Erlking replied, a slow smile taking place on his face. "Combat to first blood is usually satisfactory to determine the truth of a matter. Silvertooth, you will agree? Good." The goblin king left no room for the offensive member of his court to respond. "Then follow me, all, and we shall go to the Circle of Trials. It has been far too long since a Trial took place. I feel like I should quite enjoy this. Be warned, though, that should any offense occur before the Trial, I shall put the offender to death myself, and scatter his soul to the very corners of existence." Lord Herne seemed much larger than his 9-foot self just then to Harry, his threat of soul mutilation feeling very, very real as he hefted the battle ax that laid across his back.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the group, one of the other families in the bank had keyed in on exactly who was causing such a ruckus in the lobby of the bank. "Father," an all-too-familiar voice asked, "Why is Potter with Uncle Sev? And who is that other man with them?"

"Patience, Draco… If what I think is about to happen comes to pass, you will soon find yourself on much better terms with Mr. Potter, and his godfather."

The young Malfoy did not know it yet, but the cold wind that shivered down his back was no coincidence. "Come now, Draco," the elder Malfoy said. "I believe we should pay a visit to your godfather soon. Perhaps we'll be there when they return home?"

* * *

The two adults in Harry's group were getting irritated with their Erlking host. For the better part of twenty minutes, the group had been walking in what felt like circles, all the stone corridors that made up the back hallways of the bank looking one and the same. The only clue that they were going anywhere, in fact, was the gradual dimming of daylight as it was replaced with increasingly frequent torches, each glowing with a pale green fire. "With your pardon, Lord Herne," Sirius began, "But are we actually going anywhere? It feels like we're going in higher and higher circles in the same spots."

"Higher? No chance, we haven't moved up or down at all. Are you sure you didn't get mites in your head?" Snape snapped back at Sirius, his own irritation evident in his voice.

"Neither of you are correct," Harry said softly. "It's a faery illusion. We're at least a league underground, and almost as far north from where we started."

"Well seen, little Warlock. It has been many centuries since a mortal saw through my little game," laughed the Erlking, obviously amused by the fuming looks being sent his way by the two adults in the group.

"Lord Herne, I admit your illusion had me fooled for a while - I thought we were going down in circles. I noticed one thing, though - the shadows from the torches all went backwards from your shadow. I just _pushed_ a bit of my magic into my eyes, and I saw right through it. By the way, were you going to tell your hunters that Chaos was just entertaining them, or did you actually think you had a chance of capturing a true phoenix?" Harry's innocent tone was belied by the fire in his eyes, made all the more fierce by their golden glow from the magic he was pumping into them.

"Um, pup? A little more info for those of us still in the dark?" Sirius asked, sounding worried that there were hunters he couldn't sense.

"With your permission, mine host?" the Erlking waved his hand, curious if Harry could actually dispel the illusion he had cast.

With a breath, Harry reached out to the magic surrounding the eyes of the other members of the group and pulled, unwinding the woven illusion from their eyes. With identical gasps (that they would never admit to), Sirius and Snape were treated to a magnificent sight: They found themselves in the middle of a cavern, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of goblinfolk in an underground city. To the west side of the cavern lay the shore to an underground lake, the water glowing with an effervescent sheen in the green torchlight that lit the entire city. On the east side of the city stood a monolith of a public hall, carved in pristine granite. The spires reminded Harry of the Russian Kremlin, while the towers and arches seemed to recall the European castles from the middle ages. In the center of the city was an open park, where Harry and group saw Chaos, laughing his maniac head off, was flirting in and out of the nets of at least twenty different war-scared hunters. Harry thought he saw a couple near-catches, but none of the goblins seemed to be aware of the phoenix's true nature, missing the moments when the bird with a death wish flamed ever-so-slightly to miss getting captured.

As the illusion was lifted, a bell rang through the city. Looking around, Harry realized that it was not a bell, but rather the Erlking himself striking the flat of his ax with a nearby soldier's halberd. "CITIZENS," cried the goblin king, rising to his full supernatural height, "GATHER AND WATCH A TRIAL OF TRUTH!" On his word, goblin citizens from every walk of life began to crowd around the square. Harry saw weavers, still carrying half-formed baskets, bankers in their snappy suits, miners still carrying their pickaxes, teachers and their charges traveling in a pack - all coming to form a ring around Harry and Silvertooth. The rest of his group, less the phoenix, stood in the front row of the crowd behind Harry. In a breath, the very air stood still. No one moved, no one dared to even breath. One young goblin could be heard mewling in the crowd, ostensibly being _sush-_ ed by a concerned parent.

Casting a gimlet eye towards the wayward child, Lord Herne stepped to the middle of the arena. "Know ye all, subjects mine, that we have been bound to the Winter Court through bands of allegiance won in games of words and niceties by the last Winter Wizard." At this, Harry noticed the mood from the many goblins around him became suddenly more hostile, as every weapon-carrying goblin (that is to say, all of them) grasped at the hilt of their weapon and grew very, very still.

"Creepy little buggers, ain't y'all?" Chaos shouted, still flying in loops and circles above the group. He kept his (very fake) Western accent, though no one knew why.

"IGNORING the immortal who _graces_ us with its presence," the Erlking continued, obviously irked at Chaos but knowing full and well that he could do nothing about the infernal bird, "It displeases me to say that one of our own has gone against the code of conduct to which I inadvertently bound us so many moons ago. Silvertooth, make yourself known!"

At this, the goblinfolk let out a collective gasp. It was nearly unheard of for one of their kind to be called out so publically. That their royal leader was doing so under the auspices of a Trial gave the declaration even more weight to the gathered goblins. Ignoring his compatriots nerves, Silvertooth, who had disappeared from the circle momentarily, stepped forward. Clad in an armor made entirely of silverish metal that seemed to glow in the green faery lights surrounding the cavern, the spiteful goblin butted his spear (made of the same metal) into the ground pointed at Harry, in a clear position of challenge. "I am here, my liege," Silvertooth said, taking a half-bow in deference to the Erlking.

"Silvertooth, you claim your disrespect was proportional to the disrespect our Nation was given by the arrival of an invisible, and unannounced immortal. The warlock before us claimed no bearing on the actions of the phoenix, to which you rebutted. Do you gainsay this?"

"No, my Lord Herne. In the name of the disrespect given and the offence taken at my equal response, I do not. Here in this circle, I decry the wizard before me. Here in this circle, I defame him a liar. Here in this circle, I demand _satisfaction_!" As Silvertooth made his demands known, he became increasingly irate. Shouting by the end of his mini-speech, he slipped into the Goblin tongue by the end, not realising he was understood by Harry.

 _Blessings to you, Lady Death… a battle of wits and words is still a battle indeed_ , Harry thought, sending a small prayer of thanks to the Lady who granted him knowledge of the Goblin tongue. "Before you I stand accused," Harry addressed the crowd in their own language. Ignoring the incredulous sputtering from Sirius behind him, and the raised eyebrow from the Erlking, Harry continued. "As is your custom, in lieu of deferring this insult against the Winter Queen, my Lady Mab, to her own dealing, I present for a Trial of Truth. Am I correct, insolent Silvertooth, that you prefer a Trial by Combat?"

Ignoring the creeping feeling down his neck that told him to stand down, Silvertooth glanced at his king, and seeing his shrug that indicated he had no input, stood tall and agreed. "You puny miscreant… to think you waltz in, with an undeclared visitor, in the guise and guild of the Winter Court, and expect our respect? I shall have your head for this!"

"Very well," Harry continued, this time in English so all parties could understand again. "As you have started a duel of two Accorded Parties by naming this location with the permission of our host, I give you chance again - do you wish to settle this slight against Queen Mab's court and hospitality in combat?"

"Yes and yes again, human," Silvertooth sneered. "Thrice asked and thrice answered, by combat I shall win. In -"

" **Very well** ," Harry cut off the goblin, emphasizing his words with the force of his magic and stopping the oncoming rant in its tracks. "As you have named the location, I shall name the terms - I give you to the yield, and this Trial shall be over."

"Never shall I yield to a measly human" Silvertooth replied, ignoring the suggestions of his kin around him to take the admittedly kind offer Harry had granted him.

"So shall it be. To the death, may our trial run true." As Harry agreed to the terms Silvertooth suggested, he looked back at the Erlking, who was now seated in a throne. "Mine host, prithee, as witness and signatory to the Accords, see now that thrice I gave quarter, and thrice I was refused. In terms, in spirit, and in custom I gave."

"Agreed," came the baritone response of the goblin leader. "By all rights, you are not liable for what should happen … but neither, then, is Silvertooth." Seeing Harry's acquiescing nod, acknowledging that all ritual niceties had been fulfilled, the Erlking raised a knobbled fist. "By my word, this Trial is sanctioned." At this, a ring of green fire came to life around Harry and Silvertooth, pushing spectators back from the pair. Chaos, to Harry's surprise, had found popcorn, and was sharing a bucket with the Erlking as he rested on the arm of his throne. Ignoring the phoenix for now, but determined to ask him later his relation to the goblin king, Harry stepped forward and drew his wand, settling into a suddenly familiar dueling stance, and thanking Lady Death again for her knowledge.

"When the ribbon hits the floor, you begin." Intoned the Erlking, opening his fist to reveal a length of satin, which the humans in the arena noticed uneasily to be tinged the exact color of dried blood. With that, Lord Herne dropped the ribbon.

 **Confriga!** Cried Harry, waving his wand in an arc as soon as the ribbon hit the floor. A gold-tinged white light hit Silvertooth square in the chest, which, Harry saw, was suddenly much closer than it was a second prior. _Damn, he's fast_ Harry thought, seeing the spear come towards his face in the next breath. With not a moment left, Harry trusted in the flames encircling the arena to do their job and ducked to the ground, laying flat. Hearing the spear hit something metallic behind him, Harry correctly assumed that the green flames would stop their duel from exiting the arena.

"First blood, Silvertooth!" Cried the Erlking. Confused, Harry brought himself to his feet and wiped at his eyes. _That's strange,_ Harry noted as his hand came back smeared with red. _Where did that blood come from?_ Reaching up, Harry ran his fingers along his head, feeling a gash along the side of his hairline. _Damn!_ He swore, _that spear can't be normal… I had it cleared in plenty of time...and my spell didn't even do anything! But it hit him square on!_

Laughing, Silvertooth goaded the young warlock. "Oh, come now, little boy! You think your paltry wand and a simple dodge can beat a full set of brightsteel plates and spear?" At this, a hush came over the previously-rowdy crowd. Brightsteel was extraordinarily valuable, and to have a full set and spear made of the mystic metal was almost unheard of.

While the goblins considered the sudden showing of wealth by their kin, the humans (and Chaos, though he didn't show it - he just ate his popcorn faster than ever) were increasingly more worried. Only brief mentions of the metal had made their way through to wizarding folklore, and none of the legends bode well for young Harry. "Severus," Sirius began, his voice shaking with nerves, "Isn't brightsteel one of the most magic-resistant metals out there?"

"Of a sorts, you're right," the taller wizard responded. "It can be made into a focus, but as armor, there's almost no spell that will go through it. Even fiendfyre, cursed as the flames may be, won't harm it".

" _Oh shiiiiiiiit_." Sirius breathed, suddenly very nervous for his godson.

Seemingly ignoring his group behind him, Harry had continued to circle around the ring with Silvertooth. Successfully dodging a few more attempts to impale him, Harry had a much better idea of his opponent. _He never wanted anything less than my death from the moment he saw me,_ Harry realized. _I'm actually going to have to kill him._ Hoping against all odds that it wouldn't come to that, Harry kept firing non-lethal stunners and freezing spells. **Stupify! Confriga! Stupify! STUPIFY!** Though his aim rang true, as evidence by a soft _ping_ of every spell against his opponent's armor, not a single spell had any effect on the now bloodcrazed goblin whose attacks were getting increasingly vicious.

Calling on his not-inconsiderable magic reserves, Harry resolved himself to surviving and finishing the fight. **Protego totalum** , he whispered as he moved his wand in a quick circle around himself, buying himself some time as his shield deflected the next few spear hits. In a stroke of inspiration, Harry realized that if he could not impact the goblin directly, then he'd have to play dirty - not noticing that playing dirty is all the goblin was doing anymore as Silvertooth became increasingly more enraged that his attacks couldn't penetrate Harry's shield.

"Once more, I give quarter!" Harry shouted, still pumping magic into his shield. "Yield, and let this be over!"

"Never, you filthy human" Silvertooth snarled back, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Mine host, how strong are your flames to shield around us?" Harry asked the Erlking, not liking what he was about to have to do.

"They shall suffice. And if not, you bear no fault for the consequence. This I say, young warlock" the Erlking responded, though he quickly moved back and watched as his people did the same.

 _So be it,_ Harry thought. _I tried the best I could_. With a breath, Harry linked his core to the namesake source of his magic, pulling reserves from his connection to Lady Magic. **INCENDIUS TOTALUM!** Harry cried, and _pushed_ with as much magical force as he could muster. Instead of a ball of fire launching to the goblin, like he intended, Harry saw his wand throw a shaft of pure golden fire that circled around Silvertooth, encapsulating him in a hollow sphere of golden heat. Harry maintained his connection to the spell as long as possible, burning furrows in the earth around the sphere. As he pumped more and more magic into the spell, appreciating for the first time just how deep his magic could run as he pulled from Lady Magic without strain, Harry saw the green fire of the boundary begin to circle around and join his sphere, seemingly drawn in by the rotating ball of heat and light.

With the barrier collapsed, Harry saw the surrounding participants run further back to flee from the magefire. In a surge of effort, Harry cut his connection to the spell and pulled back.

"Mab forgive me," Harry muttered, as he saw what damage he had wrought. As the sphere dissolved into the air around it, it became clear that not only had Harry won the duel, he had done so with extreme ease.

A puddle of liquid brightsteel was hardening in the crevasse left below where the sphere was. On top of the puddle, though, was a diamond casting of Silvertooth, his sneer still present on his face. "By my powers," swore the Erlking. "Well done, well done indeed Lord Potter. It is not every day that I get to recover several fortunes worth of stolen brightsteel and see a thorn in my side get _baked_ into solid diamond!" With this proclamation, Harry became even more nauseated at what he had just done. He had no intent to make the fire that strong or that hot, he had just urged his magic to get past the brightsteel. He vocalized this to the Erlking, not expecting the goblin leader to laugh at him in return.

"Be that as it may," he said, still chuckling at the warlock, "You have proven your right beyond a doubt, and I call this trial closed. Be welcome here, you and yours, as friends of this hall. For your show of strength, be welcome as a warrior. For your efforts to avoid this goblin's death, be welcome as a friend. For your recovery of our most precious resource, of which I wasn't aware we still had, you and yours shall be allies of this hall. I give to you, Lord Potter, half the recovered brightsteel to be forged as you shall want, as well as the continued and permanent services of our highest ranking bankers as you shall need."

Bowing to the Erlking, Harry thanked him for his princely gift. As he was about to ask for a banker, to continue his original visit's purpose, he was startled by a freezing wind blowing through the cavern.

"Yes, mine ally," came a clear but cold woman's voice. Harry looked around but could not place a source for the newcomer. "Thank you". With this, Harry turned behind him, able to now see the voice belonging to the singularly most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Tall, muscled but lithe, the newcomer had crystal blue eyes and long jet-black hair pulled into a high updo, upon which rested a single circlet of silver, with a six-pointed snowflake in the middle.

Mab had arrived.


End file.
